With an effort, L took several steps back in order to put some distance between himself and Blythe. It was a childish fear, but the pain in his ribs was intensifying now, and he didn't want anyone to touch them. Even a healer... especially a healer, because he'd associated healers with Blythe.
And... chances were, when he was fine again, she'd be angry at him. It would be funny in a grim way if this resulted in a foot race between a pair of broken ribs and a set of stiletto heels, but he didn't deserve or want medical treatment after what he'd done to Kain.
"You need to go after Kain," he said in a forced voice. "I balanced the poison and the antidote perfectly, but there's a small chance his body chemistry might not respond to the antidote as such." He tried to keep the stress out of his tone, and felt that he was doing a terrific job at it.
Wouldn't it be wonderful, he thought, if all punishment could simply be reduced to physical terms. If Blythe treated him kindly, after what he'd done to Kain, he'd want to curl up and die.