[ He looks back just in time to see a fully naked Armand tucking himself under the quilt, and though it isn't exactly a shock, it does make him pause very slightly. Lestat has seen surprisingly few nude bodies in his lifetime, and it seems that lately he's seeing them everywhere; in the minds of the few mortals he's inspired in that particular way, and then very recently Louis in the flesh... and now Armand. He doesn't bother to politely avert his eyes since Armand is clearly putting very little reverence to the act of being undressed, and is helpfully distracted by Armand's next line of questioning.

His brow twitches slightly. He'd mentioned it earlier, but Armand must have been so out of it that he didn't fully comprehend what Lestat had said, so he simply nods as if this is the first time it's been brought up. ]

We ran into trouble in the hallway in much the same way that you did, except it was one shade in particular that gave Louis trouble. I was locked in that room with her trinkets, and Louis ran into a mutual friend of ours who'd been changed by what that place does to people. He was mad, he got violent. He stabbed Louis close to the heart. Louis drained him.

[ Lestat isn't certain how much he should say, if Louis would prefer to say it himself… but reasons that Louis would probably prefer to not speak of it ever again, if he had the choice. ]

I broke out with enough time to bring Louis back from losing himself to hunger, but not in enough time to save our friend. But it seems his death wasn't a punishable offence. Murder is only murder when this place doesn't agree to it from the start.