The dissolution of their affair may have left Armand holding a slight grudge, for which Lestat can't entirely blame him, but simultaneously, he wonders whether Armand ever truly knew, deep down, that theirs was a love not meant to last. It had held its own significance, and he will readily admit to that, but there is a difference between what he felt for the ancient standing before him and what he carries for Louis — the inextinguishable torch that eclipses all his other past loves.

"Illuminating, then, within the aftermath. Isn't that always the way?" It was impossible, Lestat thinks, for Armand to understand his reasons for leaving until now, but a reception like this is still more than he could have hoped for. And, judging by Armand's response, he's had other avenues of amusing himself, which bodes well.

"Naturellement," he insists, looking into Armand's golden eyes — like a cat's eyes, beneath those dark lashes, capable of displaying either pleasure or fury with little advance notice. "I did think of you, while I was gone. And wondered how you were faring in my absence."