Apology flexes across Louis' face, a slight grimace. Not regret, only worry. Daniel shouldn't have to account for Louis. For Louis' miseries, his private self-flagellation.

"It's not about me," Louis says frankly, though he isn't certain that's true. Maybe in the most immediate sense, this is not about Louis. But Daniel is a vampire. Armand had dragged him from their home, all across the world for weeks, had made Daniel write letters.

Maybe some part of it is about Louis.

But Louis is leaving that aside.

"It's about what you can live with," Louis cautions. "I want to make this easy for you."

And so had Armand, apparently. Louis is certain that's what those mind-broken mortals were meant for. An easy hunt. An easy first kill.