"You useless screw-up!"
Guilt.
"Incompetent, worthless dolt!"
Reprimand.
"I can't even trust you to protect one woman!"
Ridicule.
"So much for your chivalry."
His honor screams and weeps.
"I have disgraced myself."
But those cries go unheard.
"Even if she was a temporary proxy, you have utterly failed to protect your Master!"
He knows. He knows better than anyone.
"What kind of pathetic Servant are you?! I can't believe you had the nerve to stroll back here alone, as if nothing had happened."
Words could not convey his feelings, nor his own, utter shame regarding that failure.
Words could not placate the Mage's erratic mind.
There was worry for a woman he (they, both, honestly) failed to protect, but there was mostly rage towards the Servant who failed to protect his Master.
And, as they say, rage always makes us speak very cruel words.
"Just as the legend... You can only see a monarch's fiancée as an object of lust."
There. That's the only one thing he can't tolerate.
An unjust attack to his morality.
"You blather on about your oath of unconditional fealty, but you are just an animal consumed by your base desires."
He can't understand. He won't understand.
To him, honor and glory are a given. He could not understand the feelings of a man who fought for his lord, his love, his morals and ideals, only to be killed by the one he swore to serve.
Because those who presume to be always a step above others will always fail to see the values he holds so close and dear.
Trampling on a man's last wish. Shamelessly.
Blinded by personal desires and ambitions.
Those are the only people he will never forgive.
He lets it all out - his own rage, his own emotion, his own wounded honor.
"May blood stain your dreams!"
But even so, only ashes remain, beautifully scattering in the wind.
With him, dying by his lord's wish, history repeats itself.