Cara sat near the river, just watching the water go by. A glance at the sky told her it was around noon. She'd get food later, hopefully when less people would be at the tavern. Afterward, she'd go back to the tailor, for whatever the woman wanted. Cara didn't much care because she was bored and needed to work off some of her irritation. She could have some fun with Denna's pet, but no, she had a better idea. One that would be much more pleasing in the end. She indulged herself with an amused chuckle. After knocking the man out, she'd asked the tailor if she had rope, and she didn't, but directed Cara to a man who did. Of course, the woman wanted her to come back for whatever reason and the man was wary of her but he seemed happy enough to give her the rope without asking why she wanted it. So, in the end, she'd tied up Denna's pet. Couldn't have her source of pleasure get too comfortable. Cara smiled involuntarily. Denna would learn her lesson.

Footsteps off to her right put Cara on alert, but she didn't move. It wasn't as though someone would approach her. No, few people approached her and even fewer bothered her. And Denna bothered her from leagues away. Not to say the riddle was at all difficult, it was the principle of the matter. "Trust us two, soon to be three." Cara snorted. Denna only trusted Denna, maybe Berdine. And Berdine's foolish obsession with Raina left little mystery about the third Mord'Sith. Cara didn't trust Denna, and Denna was right not to trust her. Yet—

"What is it?"

Cara turned her head at the sound of the stiff voice to find, of all people, the Confessor, standing off a ways with a bucket. Staring. "I could ask you the same." She returned her attention to the river, but heard footsteps coming her way.

"I'm getting fresh water for someone."

"That wasn't an invitation for you to bother me, Confessor."

"She needs to break down a wall. You might enjoy that."

Cara faced the woman to raise an incredulous eyebrow, but stopped. The Confessor stood a small distance away, her posture as distant as her expression. As if waiting for an unknown element in a war. Cara frowned at it all, and then she remembered with a sigh. The Confessor was simply responding to her own behavior, which had been pathetically shifting as of late. Cara almost pulled an agiel to school herself, but decided she could do it later. This, however, needed attending now. She couldn't let dead Confessors cause this. It was absurd and ill-fitting if she and this Confessor were going to follow through with their arrangement. She cleared her throat. "I'm supposed to see the tailor later so I will unfortunately have to miss out on breaking down part of someone's home. Pity."

Kahlan looked at her oddly and didn't say anything, but she didn't leave either.

Cara absently gazed forward again. "I could've been queen by now. If I wanted."

Kahlan snorted and sat with the pack and bucket between them. "I somehow don't think you'd want to be queen of anything."

"No, that's more of your area." She glanced at the bucket before looking at the river thoughtfully. "You'd be good to your people."

Kahlan stared at the Mord'Sith in shock, and made a choked noise in an attempt to say something, though she didn't know what.

Cara tilted her head, still watching the water go by. "Most of your people are soft, though. The D'Haran army is consolidated and continually kept up, but only a fragment of yours is such, the rest is left to do as they please. Training's different, signals are different. If the reports are true, some of your people haven't crossed the Rang'Shada Mountains in more than a generation. Loyalty could've shifted. Unified and trained, the Midlands could conquer D'Hara, but that's not the case." After a moment of silence, she finally looked at Kahlan, mistaking the reason behind the shock and awe on the brunette's face. "Know your enemy," she explained.

Kahlan closed her mouth. Her gaze shifted as her emotions did. "You know more about my army than I do." Her voice dropped. "It doesn't even feel like it's mine." She jumped when Cara cuffed her arm, and openly gawked at her, surprised by the stern look she was getting.

"Don't admit that. You have to own it, and prove you're worth owning it." She nodded once, as if she'd just settled something. "Shouldn't be a problem."

That was definitely a compliment, not like the backhanded one a few minutes ago. Kahlan spoke quietly. "You may not be a queen, but I'd wager you'd do a fine job commanding an army."

Cara smirked. "No one would think to challenge my army."

"How unfortunate." She didn't have to look to know Cara was staring at her in silent question. Kahlan smiled. "The boredom might kill you."

Cara looked genuinely upset by the idea, entirely oblivious to Kahlan's attempts to suppress her laughter. "That is problematic."

She pressed a finger across her mouth, but couldn't do anything about the amusement in her eyes. "However will you survive?"

"Perhaps I could conquer the Ceruans."

Kahlan's eyebrows drew together as she wracked her brain for the name. It tugged at her memory, and she bit her lip, not rushing because the blonde didn't seem to mind the wait. "Cerua. That's across the ocean. They haven't come here in generations. Why them?"

"Why not?"

Kahlan almost rolled her eyes. "You can't just go conquering people for no reason, Cara."

"Yes, I do believe I can."

"No, you cannot."

Cara huffed. "What are you, my mother?"

"By the Creator, I will drag you away by the ear in front of your entire army if I have to."

"You wouldn't dare."

Kahlan met Cara's hard stare with her own. "By. The. Ear."

"I will literally kick you out of the kingdom."

A smile crossed Kahlan's face, even though she knew the woman was absolutely serious. "Whose kingdom would it be, anyway?"

"I don't know," Cara said glumly. "Lord Rahl would never let anyone else command his army and if Denna ruled—"

"Denna?"

Cara raised an eyebrow at Kahlan's loud interruption. "Yes, she'd have one of her pets command the army, I'm sure." She noticed Kahlan's hard expression and how she flexed her fingers. "Right, she attempted to train your Seeker."

"And get me killed."

"I forget people take that kind of thing personally."

"Personally," Kahlan repeated.

"You know, you two got the better side of things." Cara waved a hand flippantly. "Your love was proven true," she paused, looking as if she smelled decaying bodies, "But Denna was brought back just to face Rahl's wrath."

Kahlan pursed her lips, looking away. When the event was fresh, Kahlan wanted to destroy Denna, and thought it justice. Was suffering Rahl justice? And din't she forgive a man who tried to kill her days ago?

"I know that expression."

"You can't see my expression."

Cara hummed as if Kahlan said something amusing. "There is more to an expression than the face." She felt Kahlan look at her, but just quirked an eyebrow. "Actually, I think the body is the most honest expression, as much as it lies." She frowned and muttered to herself about how much sense her comment made, but ultimately, she glared at Kahlan, who had been openly staring at her with a bewildered expression. "Don't you have someone waiting on you?"

"What? Oh, oh no." Kahlan stood abruptly, moving to gather water. Laughter erupted behind her and she jerked in such surprise that she dropped the bucket in the river. She spun around, forgetting the bucket because the Mord'Sith was doubled over in her amusement. "What are you laughing about?"

"You." She shook her head, straightening up. A sneer—or perhaps just a perverse grin—lingered on her face. "The great Mother Confessor, worried about taking too long to bring someone water." She shook her head again, composing herself until a smirk remained. "Your bucket's getting away."

It thankfully caught on a small bend not too far away. Kahlan scowled. "It's your fault. You go get it."

Cara actually looked offended. "It's not my fault you're clumsy."

"I am not clumsy!"

"I think you're just afraid you'll fall over a rock the same way you did that log, Confessor."

Kahlan glared at her before snatching up Cara's pack. "I'll be at the tavern, enjoying a hot meal."

Cara watched her stomp off and rolled her eyes. She gathered the bucket and water and walked back toward town, fully assured she or the Confessor would die at each other's hands. It had to be. She felt it the way she felt the gentle wind tugging her hair—undeniable nature.

"You hurt people."

Cara stopped walking, briefly staring at the tavern a few buildings away. She turned, and had to let her gaze drop slightly to look the boy in the eyes and read him with the ease of a Mord'Sith. He was almost a man, but he wouldn't be much of one unless he harvested that fire in his eyes. She tilted her head. He had a chance, given that he flinched under her Mord'Sith stare, but stayed put. She was actually impressed. Barely. Just enough to notice. "I do more than hurt people."

"They're afraid of you."

Cara smirked. "I give them reason."

He faltered.

She frowned. If she gave him what he wanted, it'd get him killed. Not that she cared, just a simple observation. Want and need didn't always align. Not to mention getting him killed went against her agreement with the Confessor, even if it wasn't immediate. The silence stretched. "Act like something's yours and so will others. If they think differently, prove them wrong."

"I'm just a kid!"

"I am Mord'Sith. If someone takes what's mine, I kill them."

There was no further interruption in her walk to the tavern. It was less than half full, and the noise level stuttered like a panicked heart before returning to normal. Before Cara took two steps in, Ave greeted her with words and a wave, which she ignored. She did, however, notice that Kahlan hadn't looked up. Instead, the Confessor had her hands clasped on the table and stared across it, as if waiting on someone. Cara walked over, noticing the pack from the tailor sat opposite of Kahlan. Interesting. So interesting that Cara set the bucket of water directly in front of Kahlan and sat down. "There's no food here."

"You weren't here," Kahlan said simply, as if it explained everything and didn't confuse the Mord'Sith at all. She missed Cara's expression on account of abruptly leaving with the bucket.

Cara glared at the pack in front of her and pushed it to Kahlan's side of the table with a huff.

Barely a few minutes went by before Kahlan's casual return. She pushed the pack toward Cara as she sat. "You might want to put that in your room before we eat."

"It's yours."

Kahlan stared at her.

Cara rolled her eyes and shoved the pack back, her gaze focusing on a wall.

For a solid minute, Kahlan stared at her, waiting on an explanation that wouldn't come. She'd simply have to get it herself. Hesitantly, she opened the pack, removing the bundle from inside. She stared at it until an impatient grunt took her from her trance. Really, she was being silly. She undid the ties on the package and let out a small gasp. She reverently ran her fingers over her corset. It looked brand new and felt the perfect mix of soft and sturdy. Her eyes flicked up to Cara.

"Tailor's still doing your ridiculous Confessor dress," she said without looking at Kahlan.

It took Kahlan a moment to even think of something to say, and she nearly bristled at her dress being called ridiculous. Nearly. She just disregarded it as a Mord'Sith opinion. "How did Nala finish my corset but not the sleeve of my dress?"

Cara's fist hit the table and she finally looked at Kahlan. "The damned woman's making you another stupid dress!"

Kahlan's eyes widened and she dashed out.

Cara looked at the Confessor's corset and heaved a sigh. "You're not food."

"No, but this is." Ave set down a plate in front of her and nodded at her glare. "Looked like you could use that."

Cara grunted and took to her food. She was halfway through when Kahlan came back.

"I couldn't convince her to stop, but I managed to express that I wanted the old one, too."

Cara nodded sharply, but gave no other indication of hearing.

"Second or third plate?" She bit back a grin at the Mord'Sith's glare and opted to look for Ave, who happened to already be making his way over.

"Been waiting for you." He came straight to their table, smiling brightly, though it fell into a frown. "Off."

"Pardon?"

He pointed at Kahlan's corset and smiled at her flustered behavior while putting it on the floor. Ave left them both with food and told them to holler if they needed something. Kahlan promptly assumed Cara would take it literally. They ate in silence, though, that was only after Kahlan's failed attempts at conversation. By the time she'd come around to entertaining the idea that perhaps eating in the same building was a show of acceptance from the Mord'Sith, the blonde stood.

"Where are you going?"

Cara didn't even raise an eyebrow. She just stared at Kahlan long enough to blink once, as if figuring out whether or not the brunette actually asked her that question. Then she left.

Her heart beat too quickly, and she walked faster. A hand dropped to an agiel and she gripped it, every muscle throughout her arm far too tense. The shrill screams of her agiel drew attention she was oblivious to. There was something. Not in the air, not visible, not tangible. And yet Cara felt something stirring, something coming.

Instinct compelled her, though she knew little of what it spoke to her. She just had to act.

Denna's pet raised his head at the sound of her hurried footsteps. Being gagged and tied to a tree did little to diminish his aura of calm, but alarm lit his dark eyes. Mord'Sith did not rush.

Instinct drew her agiel.

It screamed against his temple. He shook violently, screamed into his gag. Stopped.

Still, the feeling pervaded.

Cara retrieved his knife and freed him from his binds. She watched him slump, the knife twitching in her hand.

Still.

Instinct.

She dropped to a knee beside him and ripped open his shirt. Her head tilted for but a moment before she stopped questioning herself. Hesitation was the only mistake. The knife bit into his skin, blood welling around its tip, and it arced along the path her hand decided. Cara set the knife atop his stomach and started toward town again. Her urgent stride turned into a run.

"What do you mean?"

Cara slung her pack over her shoulder and huffed at the Confessor, though she could've been huffing from running all the way back to town as fast as possible. "I mean exactly as I said. We have to go. Now."

Kahlan followed her and watched Cara saddle a horse.

"Are you coming or not, Confessor?"

"What happened?"

"Move it or lose it, Confessor."

There was something wild in the Mord'Sith. Something prompting her urgency. Kahlan felt it radiating off the woman, and it put her on edge. She spoke quietly. "I'll get my dress."

Cara didn't acknowledge the other woman's departure; she was busy saddling another horse.

A strange feeling had dwelt within Denna the whole day, a feeling not even training or sparring lessened. The moon hung in the sky as if trying to tell her something. She frowned. That was nonsense. But there was something. Perhaps… The blonde left the courtyard and walked the mostly empty corridors of the temple without her usual stride. No, rather, she walked like a woman possessed. Denna threw open the door to the library and went directly to a particular shelf. This was not the time for discretion, not that anyone would be around—except Berdine, who didn't matter just yet. She flipped open the book she desired without sitting and her intense stare settled on a page that had been blank earlier.

Kilion found Cara. She's travelling with the Mother Confessor, though I don't know why. Haven't seen the Seeker. They left this godforsaken, nameless town before nightfall. I know you told me to follow Kilion, but I'm following them. I hope it pleases you, Mistress. I'll do whatever you wish. Mistress, I confess I don't know why Cara didn't slit Kilion's throat, but she cut him good. He'll have a "C" on his chest forever.

"That bitch."

"I see you've read the latest message."

Denna almost flinched. Almost. She shut the book and turned with a strained smile. "Berdine. I didn't hear you come in."

"I know."

"Shouldn't you be in bed?"

Berdine cocked her head. "Whose bed?"

"Does it matter?"

"Cara was always special."

Denna's eyebrow rose slightly.

Berdine ignored her, lightly taking a seat and resting her chin on a fist, staring at nothing. "A Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor. Blood and purity."

The blonde stared at her curiously. "What was that?"

Sharp blue eyes found Denna's. "You're not telling Dahlia, I'd wager. Or at least not everything."

"I'm listening."

Berdine stood suddenly. "You listen to the wrong things."

Denna's eyes flicked down for a moment. "When did you notice the one book among thousands?"

Blue eyes calmed slightly, taking in the passing apology from Denna. "When it kept moving." She laughed at Denna's scowl, but quickly sobered. She took the journeybook from Denna's fingers and put it back on the shelf. "Can you feel it?"

Denna smiled, but in the way only the damned smile. "It begins."