"We all have our struggles," Silke said graciously towards Duke Valdemar in regards to his son, "and life lessons that must be taught to us several times over before we learn to honor the virtues." It was a truth that sounded a bit bizarre coming out of the lips of someone so young. Loss had aged her considerably. Without a mother, despite all the staff they had at their home, she had to step into the role of family matriarch. Much of the court had become gradually aware how much her steady hand guided Count Johann Kasper and Lord Vincent Kasper.

With the duke and king monetarily distracted, she leaned forward and spoke more quietly to Galt, allowing the ambient noise of the room to create a veil of privacy for them. "I'm curious what further ambition you have for yourself," she told the newly christened count. Her gaze was calm and steady as she studied him. Even if he elected not to answer, she hoped he might react, and through body language she might glean if he wished for more or if he was truly satisfied with his title, wanting nothing more. Silke wasn't absolutely confident she'd read him perfectly nor that he'd respond in a meaningful way; however, it was worth a try.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught more people staring at them. Not all of them were as obviously hostile as Vildraven, but it brought to mind she ought to warn Galt. It was a delicate topic to navigate. She was unwilling to delve into how many romantic overtures she had rejected outright. There were enough proud men that kept her refusal to herself that she was a court oddity without any negative connotation. If she were to allude to the true number, though, there was a chance she'd evolve from an endearing enigma to a troubled spinster. Silke had to thread the figurative needle as carefully as was possible.

"There's a confession I must make before we continue. Vildraven is not the only man I've rebuffed. Happy as I am to keep you company this evening and facilitate introductions to whomever you desire, my prolonged presence may make certain lords... displeased," she stated. Galt was a shrewd man. The hint ought to give him an inkling of what he was suggesting. If nothing else, it would make him more aware of the nature of the gazes upon his person, and why his peers may be less friendly than the ladies or older gentlemen of the aristocracy.

Royal staff stopped by their table to refill drinks. Silke had drained her wine and had another generous serving poured into her empty cup. For better or worse, she had learned to hold her liquor with her father and two elder brothers growing up. Her mother would have disapproved, but the combination of Silke's silver tongue, pragmatic approach to managing the Kasper family, and ability to men her age drink for drink had helped bridge a surprising amount of social divides.