Lestat does not think he remembers a Sam with a scythe, but he also did not ask this to quibble over the details. Regret, already, for the way Louis has gone quiet and still, his own nervous quiet stillness setting in as he tries to understand. Armand, taking the credit, such as it was. Of course he would see it that way.

Of course Armand would see it as opportunity. Would adapt to the surprise and betrayal of it. Adaptive, is Armand.

Finally, Lestat offers, "I didn't know," not that Louis is asking. Or perhaps Louis doesn't wish to know these things. Still, it is given. His finger remains where it is, resting curled there. "I thought you knew I had done what I did. I thought—"

He wets his lips, now looks away. Yes, a thorny memory lane. "I thought perhaps it wasn't enough."