"Awh, a passion like ours will never die, wheelchair," and then in a stage whisper: "don't worry I'll come back for you." No she won't though she might, who knows, maybe one night she will get drunk with a couple of college friends and steal a wheelchair from a hospital, this hospital and THIS wheelchair, it will be fate. That's how she'll know that they were meant to be together. Forever. Her butt just feels so good in this chair. Maybe it's the drugs, probably the drugs but it might also be the chair as well. The romantic in her says it's the chair.

The nurse chuckles and looks up from what she is doing. "I can see that, thankfully she is the good kind of silly. Though if you want me to I can get you something so you can clear up her condition." Salome is not amused she gives them a look from her wheelchair.

"My silly is adorable, to take it away from Salome would be criminal." A dainty sniff of disapproval. "We are not amused." Third person and the royal we, clearly she is not holding her opiates well. Though she does feel a little sick from it, maybe it's what they gave her to make the swelling go down, she didn't get like this on dilaudid but she doesn't dare say anything like that to anyone.

"You're almost done, your highness, we'll get you ruling over your subjects with only a slightly iron fist soon."