You, ma foi, did only what I pushed you to do. It's but a blip in our history, and it was better for me that I should die than endure a life knowing you despised me so.

{ His hand moves, stroking over Louis' hair. Lestat's not particularly good at comforting. He has little-to-no practice in such things, having always to take the approach of tough love or not love at all. }

I forgive you. It's as simple as that.