"Lord Owain," Gilander said firmly as he squared up his shoulders to stand before the grief-stricken young lord. He could accept Owain's hurt, and he could accept his anger, but Gilander had served Bors Lothian for almost his entire life, and he couldn't accept someone disrespecting him so blatantly, even if the person doing it was Bors' own son. "Your father did everything he could to…"
"Did he?" Owain interrupted as he took a step forward, glaring at the aging knight and radiating menace.
For a moment, both men stood chest to chest in the cold before the gates of the manor while Owain's clenched fist dripped blood on the cold flagstones of the courtyard. Around the courtyard, voices stilled as all eyes fixed on the knight and the young lord, waiting to see which of them would back down, or if matters would come to blows.
