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"You can't be serious, Confessor."
Kahlan looks back over her shoulder, expression as joyous as she's ever seen it, and Cara's hope that this is all some kind of elaborate joke evaporates as easily as the snow does not. "It's fun!" she says, all bright eyes and pink cheeks, before returning to the task at hand.
The sight of the powerful Mother Confessor bundled up and playing in the snow might even be endearing, if Cara wasn't so busy wondering why she isn't allowed to lie at all but Kahlan is permitted to do so openly.
Cara huffs at the thought, scowling as the cloud of breath coalesces in front of her. She waves it away with a narrow-eyed glare. "Are you finished yet?"
Kahlan laughs but doesn't turn. "Cara, be serious!"
Be serious. She scoffs. She couldn't possibly be more serious.
"Besides, I've barely started," she says, as if this is a reasonable explanation. As if anything about this is reasonable. "But, if you really don't want to help, you can go back inside. I don't mind."
"And who will protect you if I do?" Cara demands, running her eyes along the perimeter. Unless she counts the veritable mounds of snow, there's nothing out of place, not even something as potentially innocuous as a stray footprint. They're alone for now, as they have been since abandoning the warmth of the Confessor's Palace for this winter wasteland, but that could change in an instant and not even her...strong dislike for the cold will permit her to leave Kahlan unguarded.
She laughs again, the sound serving as the only source of warmth in the bitterness of the outdoors. "I hardly think I need a guard looking over my shoulder while I make a snowman."
Cara scoffs again. Since arriving in Aydindril, Kahlan seemed to take an almost perverse sort of pleasure in doing as she likes, regardless of her position and the dangers that go with it. She outright refuses to have guards escort her through the halls, strongly resists having them posted outside her chambers, and frequently tries to dissuade them from accompanying her into the city proper. Before Cara's appointment as general of the homeguard, she hates to think about how often the latter was successful.
She scans the perimeter again, discerning eyes sweeping over the monochromatic landscape. "I count no fewer than six ways an assassin could enter," she says dispassionately, though even the idea of someone trying to harm the Confessor is enough to make her hands twitch towards the agiels belted at her waist.
"And how many members of the homeguard would they have to get through first?" she asks innocently.
But Cara isn't fooled, partly because she knows Kahlan as well as she does and partly because they've had almost this exact same conversation more times than she can count. Which is why she's openly scowling even as she mentally distributes the correct number of guards to each of the aforementioned scenarios. "Irrelevant," she says, because it is. If properly motivated, she could still get through and if she can, someone else could too. It wouldn't be easy, of course, but it could be done.
"Hardly," Kahlan says, laughter coloring her words. "I'm in the central courtyard of my own Palace." She sits back on her heels, turning to face her properly for the first time since coming outside, her eyes so soft and entreating Cara has to fight the urge to look away. "I'm in no danger here."
"With respect, Mother Confessor," Cara manages through clenched teeth. "You are in danger everywhere."
Kahlan's expression falls only a little before she manages to catch it. "I won't live my life afraid, Cara," she says and, though her voice is soft, it rings with determination.
Cara studies her for a long, quiet moment before nodding her head in understanding. "Afraid and cautious are not the same thing," she says evenly. "You are the Mother Confessor and your life means too much to too many for you to be as-" Careless , her mind supplies but she shakes it away. "-as independent as you once were. As both a warrior and someone only recently allowed to choose their own path, I understand how difficult that must be for you. But while your duty is to care for your people, mine is to protect you. And I would...appreciate," she says, the word unfamiliar on her tongue, "Your patience and understanding."
"I'm not trying to be difficult, Cara," she says softly, eyes falling to the snow. "Really. I just...I don't see the need for all of this."
It is in times like these that Cara misses the ease of Rahl. Because, though he'd been a murderer and a tyrant, he understood how important his life was and had taken extraordinary pains to keep himself safe. He'd surrounded himself with those sworn to protect him - be they elite Dragon corp soldiers or the unstoppable Mord'Sith - rarely went anywhere without at least half a dozen people whose sole purpose in life was to keep him alive, and he'd still been killed.
She swallows hard, hands twitching at the memory of turning her own agiel against the man she'd been sworn to serve. Kahlan Amnell may be nothing like Darkan Rahl - Cara knows this the same way she knows the color of the sky or the weight of the Confessor's body against her own - but she is still a leader surrounded by dangers Cara has sworn to protect her from.
"I know you think me...overprotective." It is a far kinder word than most would use but Kahlan is rarely anything but kind. "And, perhaps, I am. But I will keep you safe, Confessor. I have to."
"Because it's your duty?" she asks, words gently teasing as she looks up at her from beneath her lashes.
Meeting her gaze openly and without guile, Cara shakes her head 'no'. "Because I love you, Kahlan."
Kahlan sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide. "Cara-"
She shakes her head, jaw tense and heart thundering in her chest as it always does after she says those words. Despite how uncomfortable it makes her feel, she's oddly hopeful it never changes. "I'll try to be more understanding of your needs, Confessor," she begins, "If you will do the same for mine."
"Of," she watches Kahlan's throat bob with the force of her swallow, "Of course, Cara."
She nods. "Then I'll leave you to your...snowman," she says, lips twitching slightly with the amusement she hadn't allowed herself to feel through her worry.
It goes against her better judgment to leave the Confessor's side but she is safe, here, and while she cannot give her everything she wants, she can give her this.
She turns and barely takes her first step before Kahlan's voice rings out, "You know…"
She cranes her neck to look at her over her shoulder. "Yes?"
"If you help me," she says casually, too casually in Cara's experience, "I'll be done in half the time."
"Are you asking me to build a snowman, Confessor?" she drawls.
Kahlan's cheeks flush the softest shade of pink and Cara knows she'd fight the Keeper himself for the privilege of kneeling in the snow next to her. "Maybe."
Cara's lips curl upward without her consent and she doesn't hesitate to turn around or cross the small space between them, dropping to her knees at her side. "I don't know what to do," she admits once she's settled beside her.
Kahlan laughs, soft and bright as she reaches out and entwines their gloved hands. "That's alright," she says. "I can show you."
They stay there for nearly a candlemark, packing snow into a shape that - if one tilts their head to the side, squints, and is especially generous - vaguely resembles a person. And, when they finally return to the warmth of the Confessor's Palace, Cara is the first to admit it was time well-spent.