Galt considered her offer for a moment, glancing at her as he stroked his chin. He didn't need to think long, he had already made up his mind to accept her proposal, but he also didn't want to seem too eager. After faux deliberation, he gave her a grin and held his hand out for her to accept. He was never much of a religious man, but for some reason the universe seemed to be watching out for him, recently. Escaping with his life, becoming a count, and now having a trustworthy, attractive friend to help him navigate this strange world. He held out his hand to shake. 

"We have an accord, it seems. Happy to work with you, Silke." He said, and his horse, though not entirely under his control, stepped closer to her steed as if it sensed a connection and wished to help. 

[hr]

They had agreed to meet three days hence at the cusp of dusk, and Galt had to survive with his wit and his propensity for bullshitting his way through most things until the appointed time. 

His estate was needing to be furnished and the west wing was still being built. It had originally meant to be built for the late Count Malgerton, who had died during a battle across the border 5 years ago. It was still set to be made and had been paid for before his untimely death, and it had been set to be inherited by the late Count's wife, the Countess Tildenfathen, if for no other reason than because it could go nowhere else save the King. But as Galt Harrowmark had been newly anointed, he was given 'leave' to take it, which the Duke took as it being his right to grant it to his new favorite vassal. 

And so Galt spent his time at court, which consisted of a lot of sleeping in, being present at meals but otherwise trying to stay out of people's eyesight, which was thankfully something he excelled at considering his previous 'occupation,' and searching the palace for things to do. Now, it was after lunch on the third day, and Galt had just fled the grand hall with a full belly and three of the ministers seeking his attention. Luckily, he had found a small nook on the 'Silver Tower,' a keep at the end of the palace grounds mostly manned by the royal guard and the occasional high-borne visitor. Stacked with three of the latest ballista designs, overlooking the curtain wall of the capital palace. 

Galt had become fast friends with a few of the lieutenants of the guard, playing cards with them and teaching them a thing or two on how to 'tell' in a game, as they were honorable men and not used to such subtle manipulations. As he laughed and played and drank, even if some of the guards eschewed since their breaks did not last long enough to warrant drunkenness, he thought of Silke's arrival later that day. His chambers had been expanded slightly, to give him an air of importance. He not only had a room but an outer lobby and a few adjoining rooms where his 'things' were to be place, though those were mainly gifts and trappings of office he needed to eventually be moved to his estate. 

At least they would have a private place to speak.