The White Rose

18. Cold

Talon urges Nura to ride, heedless of her arguments, and together they leave Hold Kepfew behind. And her husband.

All Nura feels is the cold. The cold of the night. The cold of the drifting snow. The cold of not having Rephas by her side. The cold of knowing they've left him behind to the mercy of a golden-eyed monster.

Coldness is better than the gaping hole that sits under her ribs, tucked where her heart should thud.

She focuses on the cold.

Pounding hooves makes Nura lift her head and cast her gaze to the rolling hills around them. Her numb hands tighten around the reins and ahead of her Talon turns his head towards the noise, eyes narrowed.

The horse and rider crest the hill, moonlight washing them in equal amounts of shadow and light. It catches on curls of dark hair that brush against broad shoulders swathed in a heavy coat.

Talon lifts a hand in greeting and Nura's shoulders slump, some of her tension draining as the rider nears them. "Canaan," Talon murmurs and the other man dips his chin, eyes that are as black as coal flicking between them.

"Those that followed have been dispatched," Canaan says, his voice deep and rough.

Nura glances behind them, her gut churning. They were being followed and she didn't even realise. How swept up in her own grief she must be.

"Nura, this is Canaan. The archer who aided us."

She turns back to the men with her lips pressed together, unable to even offer a word of thanks for fear of bursting into tears.

She's certain Priestess Eylvi raised her to be stronger than this.

How much has she suffered through? She was born into a war, surrounded by nothing but hate and blood and fear. Will this be what finally breaks her?

They continue riding, the men talking quietly between them. Nura doesn't want to hear more secrets, she doesn't want to tumble further into this struggle. All she wants is Rephas to be safe and she has no idea how to accomplish that.

Her best hope is Talon.

Nura nudges her horse forward as her heart thuds against her ribs like a desperate bird trying to escape its cage of bone. But it can't escape, she can't escape. Nura must do what she's always done; endure.

"What are you planning, brother?" Canaan asks, black eyes darting to Nura as she rides beside them.

"I sent a letter to Elice," Talon replies. "There was a possibility I wouldn't make it out of that manor and I needed Elice to know everything that had happened." He glances at Nura, his light eyes meeting hers as his eyebrows pinch together.

"Rólin hasn't been able to contact her in years. How did you find her?"

"I never lost her."

"Who's Elice?" Nura cuts in, but Talon glances away from her at the question.

"I asked her to come to the cave," he continues. "You may have the chance to meet her, Nura."

"Do you think she'll come?" Canaan questions.

Talon lowers his chin, his gaze going to his scarred hands that clench in the reins. "After what Rólin did to her, I think she'll jump on any excuse to tear him apart."

There's silence for a moment as those words settle in the air, the simmering anger in Talon's tone making Nura swallow.

The silence is broken by Canaan, "Rólin asked you to track us all down, didn't he?"