Carrick gave a tiny but faintly sad smile. "I don't ask out of vanity."
He waited until the fervent, poetic declaration had ended, and gently tilted Hermes' head up to face him. "I ask because you have to realise why I'm not going to turn you. And it's not just because of the reasons you think."
He stroked Hermes' face for a moment. "It's not just because you're my slave. All that light, that fire, that joy that delights me about you - everything about you would change. Your nature is as much Fae as it is human, and to bury that in the grave... no. You'd come to hate me for it. And you'd come to hate yourself."
He met the moss green gaze levelly. "There's so much melancholy in you, Hermes. It might take centuries, but eventually that sadness would eclipse your light." He pressed a soft kiss to the pale forehead.