Carrick's hands remained gentle, but his eyes sparked. "Pity? That self-righteous smug little..." He fumed silently. "The day I need pity from a slave is the day I deliberately fall onto a stake."
He was ominously silent for a long moment, his thoughts turning to the instruments that still awaited in the room in which he had not yet taken Samandriel, before sighing slightly and pressing a kiss to Hermes' hair.
"Maybe it's the Grace. Maybe its affecting me too. I don't have much experience with these things. Truth to tell, I'll be glad when it's gone."
He propped himself up on his elbow again. "Now. No more sadness. Take the day and enjoy it. And yes, you can visit a brothel if you really must. Give your Master another kiss."