"My crown smells like the streets of Gotham," she shrugs, though it's appropriate. If she ever did have a crown--one not given to her by Lucrezia--it'd probably be made of asphalt.

She looks at her. "I'm not doing any shooing, just saying. I'm staying out here until I get frustrated enough to mess up my room in the castle with tar, or bored enough to try weird things like sitting in the bath or pool until this is over."