Loman had frozen awkwardly halfway to the dais when his father hurled his cloak at him, and now he stood there like a deer meeting a hunter's gaze, unable to advance or retreat in the face of his father's ire.
The sight of it was enough to make Bors' blood boil, but he had only himself to blame for failing to take Loman in hand earlier. The smirk on Owain's face, as he stood nearby, only made matters worse. Owain was delighting in his brother's misstep, and he wasn't bothering to hide it now that he'd captured so much attention with the plan that Jocelynn had helped him to concoct.
One brother looked like he was afraid of being struck, and the other was looking forward to seeing the punch land, and they were doing it in full view of the Church and the Court. What a sad state of affairs that he would have to clean up.
