Galt wasn't very knowledgeable with the laws of court or expected gender roles. While women were still mistreated on the streets, luckily there was a bit more diversity in terms of circumstance and personage. He had met a few girls who could outwit him or even beat him in a fight in certain situations. He wasn't one to underestimate someone due to their sex, and one look at Silke told him she was someone to be reckoned with. 

He also figured she was a bit too proud to admit she wanted or needed help, but he honestly found it cute. Not in a 'quaint' way a noble might look down on an inferior, but a quirk he liked. He swiftly found he liked many things about her. He suddenly had images of her and he in his head, those of a romantic fashion. He tried to push them out of his mind, but he found they hung on the periphery, just waiting to be pulled back in. He gave her a wink when she agreed to lunch, and then called for one of the servants to bring them some food. He made sure to thank the man before he ran off to finish his task. 

Galt awaited her to get to her feet, but the former-thief blinked when she asked him about archery. 

He smiled curiously. "No, I never had the occasion." He said, wondering why she might be interested. Unlike a neighboring country or two, archery wasn't the national past-time here. He made sure to pull her chair out so she could take a seat, just as a gentleman would. Once she did so, he would take his own and recline in it, thinking on her question. "Bows are for hunters or yeomen, usually. Or that's what I hear from folk. When one is in the city and they want to do something less than legal, they tend to use crossbows. Slower but less uh, conspicuous. Hey, look at that. I'm using big aristocratic words already." 

He grinned at himself, and some water was placed in front of them. "Oh, thank you," he told the maid. She gave a small bow and exited. Galt took a sip of the clear water, still amazed at how clean some water really could be. He was always surprised at how thirty one got after drinking a few sips. He supposed his body was just annoyed with him having neglected itself for so many years. Not like it was his fault...

"I'm handy with a knife, but bows I'm not familiar with." He admitted, placing the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He realized as he did it he should have used a napkin and went for it, dabbing what was left. Why do you ask, Silke? Is there a tournament coming up? I'm afraid I wouldn't do very well in it."

As he finished the thought, steaming plates of food were laid before them. Galt found he was fairly famished. Beefs, lettuce, potatoes and butter were set in round, wooden plates. Utensils were placed before them, before the servants hustled away once more.