Empty. Of course. A museum chamber, down to the old brass brackets of the gas lamps with their frosted globes, and the tall hulking armoire in which he’d once kept all of his simple black clothes. Well, what had I expected? Nothing personal marred the effect until I realized I was staring at a discarded pair of worn black shoes, shoes so thoroughly coated in dust they seemed made of it, and there on the chair beside the chest of drawers was a worn old shirt.

Could this possibly mean—?

I turned around.

Louis was standing in the door of the room opposite, across the hall.

I drew in my breath. I didn’t say a word. I like to look at him through your eyes.

He was outfitted entirely in the new clothes I’d ordered for him, a long black riding jacket, sleek at the waist and flaring, and a pale pink European-linen handmade shirt. He wore a tie of green silk, almost exactly the color of his eyes, and there was an emerald ring on his finger of that very same green. Bit of handkerchief in his breast pocket to match the tie, and fine-cut trousers of black wool and sleek boots fitted to his calves like gloves.

I was unable to speak. He’d put on these clothes for me, and I knew it. Nothing else in this world would have prompted him to dress like this, or to have brushed all the dust out of his glistening black hair. And the hair he’d left long on rising so that it was full as it had been in the old days, wavy, a little unruly, curling just under his ears. Even his white skin looked polished. And a scent rose from him of a rare and expensive male cologne. That too, I had sent for. That too, servants had brought here along with my other gifts.

Silence. It was like when Gabrielle, my mother, undid her long braid and combed her free and luxuriant hair. I could scarcely breathe.

I sensed he understood. He crossed the hall and put his arms around me and kissed me on the lips.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked. Nothing mocking or mean in the tone.

Shocked. Unable to respond.

“Well, I figured you could use some new clothes, that you always can.” I was stammering, clinging to a shred of dignity, trivializing the moment with ridiculous words.

“A whole room full of clothes?” he asked. “Lestat, the century will be ended before I can wear all that.”

“Come, let’s hunt,” I said. Which really meant, Let’s get out of here, let’s walk together and be quiet together and please let me see you drink. Let me see you draw the blood and the life out of a human being. Let me see you need it, and go for it, and have it, and be filled to the brim with it.