Lestat stood in front of her, taking it all in. Beauty seemed like she'd vibrate right past him, if not through him, in whatever state this was. It would be funny to him, were she someone else.
He'd understood her French, if not the reason she was saying what she was saying. Sorry? Intrude?
She was shaking. This he could not stand.
"Ma chere."
He waited for her to be more at ease. It didn't seem to be happening. He wanted to touch her, to put his hands on her shoulders, but did not want to startle her further. He was cold. She was shivering. And she did not know what he was, based on their last encounter.
He tried again. "Honour."
He did not know what had happened with Eric. He was concerned, now. He thought about pushing at her mind to find the answer, but she seemed so fragile and so in need that he could not do it. It would be even more of a violation.
"You're cold." He removed the spring-weight tailored jacket he wore and placed it around her shoulders, like a cape.
Take pity. What a phrase. "Will you allow me to escort you somewhere where we can talk about all of this?" Both of his eyebrows rose behind his glasses, waiting for an answer.