“They are beasts, brutes,” said Kael’thas, his normally tenor voice dropping in his disgust. “They and their dragons damaged Quel’Thalas badly. Only the Sunwell’s energies prevented them from wreaking even more havoc than they did. You humans could solve the problem of protecting your people without taxing them so severely by simply executing the creatures.”

Jaina recalled the one glimpse she had seen of the orcs. They had looked weary to her, broken and dejected. They’d had children with them.

“Have you been to the camps, Prince Kael’thas?” she said tartly, speaking before she could stop herself. “Have you actually seen what they have become?”

Color rose in Kael’thas’s cheeks for a moment, but he kept his expression pleasant. “No, Lady Jaina, I have not. Nor do I see any need to. I see what they have done whenever I behold the burned trunks of the glorious trees of my homeland, and pay my respects to those slain in that attack. And surely you have not seen them, either. I cannot imagine that so refined a lady would wish to be given a tour of the camps.”

Jaina very carefully did not look at Arthas as she replied, “While His Highness gives me a lovely compliment, I do not think that refinement has any bearing on one’s desire to see justice. Indeed, I think it rather more likely that a refined individual would not wish to see sentient beings slaughtered like animals.” She gave him a pleasant smile and continued eating her soup. Kael’thas gave her a searching look, confused by her reaction.

“The law is Lordaeron’s, and King Terenas may do as he sees fit in his own realm,” Antonidas broke in.

“Dalaran and every other Alliance kingdom also must pay for their upkeep,” said a mage Jaina did not know. “Surely we have a voice in this, since we are paying for it?”

Antonidas waved a thin hand. “It is not the issue of who pays for the camps, or indeed whether the camps are even necessary. It is this strange lethargy of the orcs that intrigues me. I have researched what little we have on orcish history, and I do not believe it is confinement that renders them so listless. Nor do I believe it is an illness—at least, not one that we need worry about contracting.”

Because Antonidas never indulged in idle chatter, everyone stopped their bickering and turned to listen to him. Jaina was surprised. This was the first she had heard from any of the magi regarding the orcish situation at all. She had no doubt that this was a deliberate decision on Antonidas’s part to reveal this information at this time. With both Arthas and Kael’thas present, word would travel swiftly throughout Lordaeron and Quel’Thalas. Antonidas did little by accident.

“If it is not an illness, nor a direct result of their internment,” Arthas said pleasantly, “then what do you think it is, Archmage?”

Antonidas turned toward the young prince. “It is my understanding that the orcs were not always so bloodthirsty. Khadgar told me what he had learned from Garona, who—”

“Garona was the half-breed who murdered King Llane,” Arthas said, all trace of good humor gone. “With all due respect, I do not think we can trust anything such a creature says.”

Antonidas lifted up a calming hand, as some of the others began to murmur agreement. “This information came before she turned traitor,” he said. “And it has been verified through—other sources.” He smiled a little, deliberately refusing to identify what “other sources” he had consulted. “They committed themselves to demonic influence. Their skin turned green, their eyes red. I believe they were saturated with this external darkness by the time of the first invasion. Now they have been cut off from that source of sustenance. I think we are seeing not an illness, but withdrawal. Demonic energy is a potent thing. To be denied it would have dire consequences.”

Kael’thas waved a hand dismissively. “Even if such a theory is correct, why should we care about them? They were foolish enough to trust demons. They were thoughtless enough to permit themselves to become addicted to these corruptive energies. I, for one, do not think it is wise to ‘help’ them find a cure for this addiction, even if it could return them to a peaceful state. Right now, they are powerless and crushed. It is how I—and anyone in his right mind—prefer to see them, after what they have done to us.”

“Ah, but if they can be returned to a peaceful state, then we will not have to keep them locked up in the camps, and the money can be distributed elsewhere,” Antonidas said mildly, before the entire table could erupt in argument. “I’m sure King Terenas does not levy these fees simply to line his own pockets. How does your father fare, Prince Arthas? And your family? I regret that I was unable to attend your initiation ceremony, but I hear it was quite the event.”

“Stormwind was most gracious to me,” Arthas said, smiling warmly and digging into the second course of delicately broiled trout served with sautéed greens. “It was good to see King Varian again.”

“His lovely queen has recently provided him with an heir, I understand.”

“Indeed. And if the way little Anduin grips my finger is any indication of how he’ll grip a sword one day, he’ll make a fine warrior.”

“While we all pray your coronation day is many years distant, I daresay that a royal wedding would be welcomed,” Antonidas continued. “Have any young ladies caught your eye, or are you still Lordaeron’s most eligible bachelor?”

Kael’thas turned his attention to his plate, but Jaina knew he was following the conversation keenly. She kept her own face carefully composed.

Arthas did not look in her direction as he laughed and reached for the wine. “Ah, that would be telling, would it not? And where’s the fun in that? There’s plenty of time left for such things.”

Mixed feelings washed over Jaina. She was a little disappointed, but also somewhat relieved. Perhaps it was best if she and Arthas remained only friends. After all, she had come here to learn how to be the most accomplished mage she could become, not flirt. A student of magic needed to be disciplined, to be logical, not emotional. She had duties, and needed to perform them with her full attention.

She needed to study.

“I need to study,” Jaina protested a few days after the dinner, when Arthas approached her leading two horses.

“Come on, Jaina.” Arthas grinned. “Even the most diligent student needs to take a break now and then. It’s a beautiful day and you should be out enjoying it.”

“I am,” she said. It was true; she was in the gardens with her books, rather than cloistered in one of the reading rooms.

“A bit of exercise will help you think better.” He extended a hand to her as she sat underneath the tree. She smiled despite herself.

“Arthas, you will be a magnificent king one day,” she said teasingly, grasping his hand and allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. “No one can seem to deny you anything.”

He laughed at that and held her horse while she mounted. She was wearing trousers today, light linen breeches, and was able to sit astride rather than sidesaddle with long robes. He swung up easily on his own horse a moment later.

Jaina glanced at the horse he was riding—a bay mare, rather than the white stallion fate had snatched from him. “I don’t think I ever said how sorry I was about Invincible,” she said quietly. The mirth left his face, and it was like a shadow passing over the sun. Then the smile returned, slightly sobered.

“It’s all right, but thanks. Now—I have picnic supplies and the day awaits. Let’s go!”

It was a day Jaina would remember for the rest of her life, one of those perfect late summer days where the sunlight seemed thick and golden as honey. Arthas set a hard pace, but Jaina was an experienced rider and kept up easily. He took her far away from the city and along stretches of green, expansive meadows. The horses seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as their riders, their ears pricked forward and their nostrils flaring as they inhaled the rich scents.