[ Holland almost pities him. He would, if he wasn't, deep down, unbearably jealous. How nice for the little prince to save his family. How lucky that all he had to pay was Holland's own blood.

A pity, but nothing they do will undo it. Like with so much else, Holland has his hate and his anger and he can do nothing for it. He tightens his hold, pulling him close enough to whisper directly in Kell's ear. ]

You're pathetic, Kell.

[ And with that, he releases him, giving Kell a little shove for good measure. As long as Kell knows where he stands. As long as Kell knows he won't be forgiven—then Holland can stew in his anger as he always does. Quietly. With a steel, empty look in his eye. ]

Now, unless you have something else to say for yourself, we should get moving. I'd rather have you where I can see you, than risk you stabbing me in the back.

[ That's not true, though. This conversation proves it. Holland knows Kell won't try to kill him again. He clearly didn't want to in the first place. That weakness will get them both killed. But at least if something happens, Kell might be stupid enough to look out for Holland when it does. ]