Fitz's approach, his touch, can't be avoided (and if the Fool is honest with himself, he doesn't want to avoid the latter... much though he knows he should). He flinches when Fitz touches his chin, anticipating a closer inspection of the wounds, and looks up at him through a loose fall of amber hair.

"It will be all right," he assures him quietly, an answer that does not actually answer Fitz's question. Gently, he lifts a hand to take hold of his friend's wrist and coax it away from his face. (Those gentle, intimate touches are too much.) "I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's being taken care of."

How vague an answer can you possibly provide, Fool?