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The sigil hovered in the air before him, green light eerily bright in the still Northrend air. He had forgotten how cold it was here in Dalaran; even in the depths of winter Quel'Thalas was yet filled with sunlight and balmy air.
His footsteps echoed in the cavernous library. Kael'thas fancied he could hear every rustle of his robes, every drag of his cloak over the flagstones. Everything cloaked in silence and devoid of warmth.
After what seemed like an eternity the symbol flared, and blinked out of existence. He took a deep breath—there was no reason to be nervous, nor guilty; she had not informed him of the occasion and he would not have been able to refuse his father's summons in any case, but…he peered around the wooden shelf that loomed over his head. "…Jaina?"
"Huh?" She looked up from the tome, distracted, until she spotted him. "Kael'thas! Welcome back to Dalaran." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear; it gleamed like the sun in summer, unlike the wan light of Northrend's perpetual winter chill. "What brings you to this lonely corner of the library?"
It was difficult to remember his purpose when she smiled so—untarnished, unguarded. "I had been told that your…your birthday had passed while I was away," he said awkwardly.
"Oh! Yes, it did." Jaina beamed proudly. "I'm eighteen now, since last week."
Kael'thas cleared his throat. "When—when word reached me, I was yet in Silvermoon, and." He held out what he had taken from the royal library in between the court's Winter's Veil celebrations. "It occurred to me that this might be of interest you…"
Jaina took the weathered volume from his hands, blue eyes bright and inquisitive. "Children of the Tidehunter," she read, "Being a Study of the Summoning of Water Elementals. Oh, Kael'thas!" She looked at him, eager and excited. "I've been looking for a copy of this for ages! Thank you, so much."
"It is nothing," he said, heart soaring. She was already engrossed in the volume's pages, bent over the tiny text. Kael'thas stood there for some moments, feeling the silence stretch unbearably between them. "Your…cloak." He laid a hand on the blue silk pooled upon her table. "Is it new? It…looks quite nice, against your eyes."
Jaina waved a careless hand at the chair where she'd left her garment. "Arthas sent me it—for my birthday, you know. I was in the middle of researching its enchantment when you arrived…" Kael'thas touched the magic woven into the garment—powerful. Expensive. "It's really a piece of work, isn't it? Much more advanced than anything I've learned so far."
All Kael'thas wanted to do was burn the cursed thing to ashes. He could cast enchantments a thousand times more powerful than Arthas' petty bought magics. "Yes," he said instead. "It is."
He was gratified to see her turn back to the volume in her hands, to the book he had given her.
"I…I should be going," he said at last, after watching her in silence for a moment. "I must speak with the rest of the Kirin Tor…" He waited, then turned to leave. "Fare you well, Jaina."
"Wait!" she called, just before he turned at the aisle. At his surprise, she added, "Shorel'aran." Jaina tucked a her hair behind her ear once again. "I've—I've been practicing my Thalassian. How was my accent?"
He could decipher the runes of a hundred thousand dead tongues. Why did this human girl confound him so? The sunlight streaked her table, unmatched by Jaina's eager smile. No sapphire could match her eyes. "Perfect," he said. "Absolutely perfect."