Galt felt strangely nervous, which wasn't usual for him. Perhaps in a life or death situation, but here he was a bit taken with the idea of seeing Silke again after a few days of contemplation. He felt wholly inadequate of her attentions, even if it wasn't her affections. Something about watching the aristocracy in the palace made him wonder how he could ever been that, much less the idea version of that. True, she was coming to teach him, but the learning curve was steep. He knew there were many pompous nobles, but the good ones were well-versed in matters of war, finance, and culture. 

He knew none of those, and it usually took years to master any one of those subjects. 

Now, the Palace Guards who were off-duty were now going back on their rounds, and the tower itself was guarded by all save the watchmen who were stationed at its front. The inner chambers of the tower itself were largely made for business and meetings, when not populated by guardsmen or the unlikely event the palace was under siege. The battlements had siege batteries and sconces for arrows built into the stone, but within were well furnished, comfortable rooms with smoothed, laminated desks and cushioned chairs. Book filled cabinets lined the walls and the carpets were soft. 

There was even two bedrooms for guests in the southwing of the spire, though they were used maybe once a year, if that. Only every few months did a maid come by to clean them and keep the dust from settling in too thickly. The beds looked very comfortable though. He wondered how many guards had fallen asleep on one drunk, or if that was even allowed amongst fellows. 

Galt awaited Silke in the central meeting chamber, a circular room with an equally curvaceous table lined with seats and a central area cordoned off for someone who would volunteer to speak to an assembly of accountants or dignitaries. He did not sit at the great table, but a soft, high backed chair in one of the corners next to a small table with a flower pot and two cups of tea, still steaming for when she arrived. 

Galt wore a fashionable jerkin, and rolled up sleeves exposing his toned arms. His hair was as dark as ever, as were his eyes. He had a thoughtful expression on his face until he heard footsteps that drew him out of his reverie and brought a sly look on his face, though his smile was genuine. When he saw Silke, he said "I didn't what to bring exactly so I sort of did not bring anything. Though I have a quill and parchment on the table just there."