A Conjuring of Light 3

Until all Holland wanted, more than the ability to save his world, more than the strength to bring the magic back, more than anything, was for it to end. All he had to do was shape the magic— Holland could feel the annoyance ripple through Osaron. But as Holland took in this Kell, with his bright attire, his healthy glow, he saw the hall as the boy must—dingy, coated with the film of frostlike neglect, the mark of years fighting for every drop of magic, and felt a surge of anger. The young king gripped the edges of his throne and spoke in hushed tones with his brother, whose expression flickered between surprise and annoyance before finally settling into something more resigned.