[i]Well, she seemed to be endeared to my complete lack of charm,[/i] he thought sardonically. Then again, even that was based on his own steed's unease around the former thief. He looked at the beast with suspicion, as if it were paid off to thwart his efforts at conversation. 

Galt's devil-may-care attitude had a lot to do with the treatment he had received in his life, mostly due to his station. Women, for instance, had the tendency to look down on him. Granted, a few of them had called him handsome and spoke true enough, but they had been with him for that reason and then left him for better prospects. He supposed it was pragmatic, and he had not learned enough about them to grow attached regardless, but if they weren't using him, they were laughing or scoffing at him for his lack of money or stable job. Strangely enough, many of the noble ladies focused on the same, except the shoe was on the other foot now. Silke wasn't like that, at least as far as he could gather. He listened to her intently, curious on her thoughts laid out plainly. So she was wanting to effect changes? He couldn't disagree with that sentiment, at the very least.

"Oh, I'm careful." He said with surety, though he gave her a wry smile. "I'm not looking for complications, even if complications tend to be the most fun. Like you..." 

Galt smiled wider, his dark eyes meeting hers. It caused his charm to bloom into magnetism. "You make things complicated. Not for me, but others around you. They don't quite know what to make of you. I look at you and I feel similar. You don't seem to want anything from the other nobles, but you move them effortlessly and speak to me as if I'm not a prospective thing to conquer. I suspect you've noticed I've treated you the same, out of respect." He laughed at the supernatural possession claim. "If you're a spirit, or even a witch, you're certainly the prettiest witch I've ever seen. Most of the ones who claim it have warts or crooked backs." He found he was still looking into her eyes, and turned away to hide his bashful look in the dim light of the evening. 

"You ask me of my ambitions, and honestly? I haven't thought that far. What would ambitions get me?" Galt said into the air, thinking aloud. It sounded very much like playing a hand that could end up making him lose what he had. "In fact, I don't see why I need play in any great game. These people around me, everyone, I've had to scrape through the mud under their boot heels since I was seven. Now half of them like me and the other half simper at my feet. I don't feel pride or that I deserve it. I was lucky, like anyone who's born into something. But I won't jeopardize it either. I've got a guaranteed ticket to not starve nor want anymore. If what you're asking me is to risk that, I would need a solid reason or assurances that it would be worth it in some fashion." 

He felt it was very much not the answer she wanted to hear. And though it was true, Galt was a born risk-taker, however he had only been in this life for a fortnight, and he had barely gotten used to it. He knew soon he would get bored and want to stir up some trouble, but enough to make him an enemy of people who could strip him of lands or coin? He wasn't sure. 

Well, he was. But he did not want to admit it to himself. 

He looked at her, more tenderly than earlier. "I'm not a monster... or the cutthroat people thought of me, but I'm no hero, either. I wish I could say I would do something for the good of the system and the people, but I never had the luxury to learn of such things..."   

He cleared his throat, regaining some dignity as he patted his fist to his chest. "I suspect I'm not quite what you're looking for. Which is a pity, you seem like what many men are looking for. I feel I would only disappoint you."