White flowers bloom in spring.

“Fleet kept running,” Kaladin growled, getting back under Elhokar’s arm.
“What?”
“He couldn't win, but he kept running. And when the storm caught him, it didn't matter that he’d died, because he’d run for all he had.”
“Sure. All right.” The king sounded groggy, though Kaladin couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the blood loss.
“We all die in the end, you see,” Kaladin said. “So I guess what truly matters is just how well you've run. And Elhokar, you've kept running since your father was killed, even if you screw up all the storming time.”
“Thank you?” the king said, drowsy.”
― Brandon Sanderson