he doesn’t trust it. these are his own games and they strike back at him with some warning air. perhaps the cruelty seen so oft in the mind of the chevalier before his making , how capable he could be of these machinations , perhaps they had returned in kind. capable , yes , but also weak to error and his own fluctuating emotion. and so lestat keeps a distance , similarly plaintive and wondering albeit with that bitter edge. “ i was under some … impression. ”
“I wouldn’t preoccupy myself if I were you, my love.” Philippe was lying. Lestat was far from being an ignorant when it came to le Chevalier’s whims. He would obviously enough realize such fact considering the distance between their bodies. He was still hurt over the fact that his maker did not love him - or at least, so he thought. Were everything just fine, Philippe would be clinging to Lestat’s body whilst sitting across his lap. “What gave you such impression?” He made sure to ask, voice filled with sarcasm.