Lestat is expressive, which is why even though the flicker of displeasure is brief it’s undoubtedly obvious. The seemingly genuine hurt that lingers might only be evident to someone as observant as Daniel, too, though Lestat attempts to play it off nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulder and a vague flap of his hand.

“Considering the last time he and I saw one another he cut open my throat, you can imagine that the lingering animosity goes both ways.”

And yet Lestat has more or less forgiven Louis. In his mind, the whole scheme of it had been Claudia’s, and Louis was powerless to deny her anything. Lestat remembers the last night with a remarkable clarity considering the delirium from fasting. For all the fights and disagreements, there had been, at least to Lestat, real love. People who weren’t in love simply didn’t look at one another the way he and Louis had while they danced. Was it simply foolish optimism that had convinced Lestat that Louis would be pining for him as well?

“Is your desire then to have some sordid exposé about vampire romance? Two accounts of who said or did what so the intrepid journalist can piece together the truth in all of it?”