"It's... somewhat complicated to explain the exact circumstances. One of them fell on me while I was trying to stop them from leveling the city."

"That does not sound very complicated to me," the Fool replies while turning off the tap. "You played the part of the hero, and reaped the heroic consequences, naturally."

He wrings the excess water out of the cloth, folds it neatly into a square, and comes back to the table to stand in front of his friend. When he holds the cloth out to him, his cross frown has given way to something else; there's genuine worry, perhaps even fear in his amber gaze, though he works to keep it from dominating his features.

A pause, and then, "How bad is it?" asked quietly. The look in his eyes makes clear the plea he doesn't say aloud: please don't lie to me.