All who have read The Vampire Lestat's tale of his life know of this immense and unusual plac
e because he vividly described it. It far exceeded in grandeur any other palace in which I had ever lived, and its remoteness was a challenge to my ingenuity.
But I was most purely alone now, alone as I had ever been before the love of Amadeo, or Bianca, and I had no hope of an immortal companion. And perhaps in truth I wanted none.
It had been centuries since I had heard of Mael. I knew nothing of Avicus or Zenobia. I knew nothing of any other Child of the Millennia.
I wanted only a great and gorgeous shrine for the Mother and Father, and as I have said, I spoke to Akasha constantly.
But before I go on to describe this last and most important of all my European dwellings, I must include one last tragic detail in the story of those who were lost to me.
As my many treasures were moved to this Aegean palace, as my books, my sculptures, my fine tapestries and rugs and other such were shipped and uncrated by unsuspecting mortals, there came to light one final piece of the story of my beloved Pandora.
In the bottom of a packing case, one of the workers discovered a letter, written on parchment, and folded in half, and addressed quite simply to Marius.
I was on the terrace of this new house, gazing out at the sea and over the many small islands that surrounded me, when the letter was brought to me.
The page of parchment was thick with dust, and as soon as I opened it, I read a date inscribed in old ink which affirmed that it had been written the night I parted with Pandora.
It was as if the fifty years separating me from that pain meant nothing.
My beloved Marius,
It is almost dawn and I have only a few moments in which to write to you. As we have told you, our coach will leave within the hour carrying us away and towards the eventual destination of Moscow.
Marius, I want nothing more than to come to you now, but I cannot do it. I cannot seek shelter in the same house with the Ancient Ones.
But I beg you, my beloved, please come to Moscow. Please come and help me to free myself from Arjun. Later you can judge me and condemn me.
I need you, Marius. I shall haunt the vicinity of the Czar's palace and the Great Cathedral until you come.
Marius, I know I ask of you that you make a great journey, but please come.
Whatever I have said of my love of Arjun, I am his slave now too completely, and I would be yours again.
Pandora.
For hours I sat with the letter in my hand, and then slowly I rose and went to my servants and asked them that they tell me where the letter had been found.
It had been in a packing case of books from my old library.
How had I failed to receive it? Had Bianca hidden this letter from me? That I couldn't believe. It seemed some simpler more haphazard cruelty had taken place¡ªthat a servant had laid it on my desk in the early hours, and I myself had swept it aside into a heap of books without ever seeing it.
But what did it matter?
The awful damage was done.
She had written to me, and I had not known it. She had begged me to come to Moscow and I, not knowing, had not gone. And I did not know where to find her. I had her avowal of love, but it was too late.
In the following months I searched the Russian capital. I searched in the hope that she and Arjun had for some reason made their home there.
But I found no trace of Pandora. The wide world had swallowed her as it had swallowed my Bianca.
What more can I say to reveal the anguish of these two losses¡ªthat of Pandora whom I'd sought for so long, and my sweet and lovely Bianca?
With these two losses my story comes to a close.
Or rather I should say we have come full circle.