Relieved as she was to hear his understanding, agreement, and even approval of her plan, her smile faltered slightly at the decided lack of enthusiasm he had towards her brother. She genuinely wanted them to get along. Galt would make an excellent friend and ally for Vincent, since he was clever and charming, and though the heir to her family was very intelligent in his own right, it was not in the same ways as the former thief. They'd be able to compliment and support one another's strengths. There was also the fact that she thought they were two of the finest men of the court and, because of her fondness, she had an honest desire to see them get along. Still, she couldn't blame either of them for being apprehensive of the other as an unknown quantity and stranger.

"If it helps to know, he's not great with people," she offered so that anything Vincent said to Galt wasn't taken personally. "I'm sure you've met someone like that before," Silke remarked, since she had the sense he had spent a great deal of time around a wide variety of people and thus a spectrum of different personalities. "Since we were little he had a difficult time connecting with people, especially on an emotional level, and it became worse after..." she took a deep breath and paused, finding the strength to forge on ahead despite the pain the subject normally caused, "the death of our mother and brother, Alistair. Rather than keeping your mouth shut completely, you might try talking about what martial experience you do have, which he'll probably find interesting." It was the most helpful suggestion she could think of at the time, though there might be other topics on which they could connect in a positive way.

At the question of what she'd be doing the next couple weeks she couldn't help but laugh, one that was amused, weary, frustrated, content, and carried the tiniest amount of bitterness as well. Nothing he had asked was wrong, but she was reminded just how short a period of time he'd been in the courts to ask. Every member of the nobility (or nearly all) had come to understand the scope of her involvement in family affairs and duties. Had she been any other young female aristocrat, her time would be filled with learning 'gentle' arts, ordering fashionable gowns from the nearest dressmaker, enjoying the gentle serenity of a sitting room, and basking in the attentions of suitors who were eager for her dowry and reciprocated affections. At times she yearned for such an idle existence. It wouldn't have suited her or put her skills to use, yet she was enchanted by the idea of resting, of being able to relax in the knowledge that she didn't have responsibilities that she was the only one capable enough to handle.

Despite herself, and the compulsion to present a front of complete confidence and contentedness, she sighed. "I'm always busy. I manage the household estate- all the expenses, oversight of the men performing repairs, all the updates and replacements of furniture and necessities, all the servants, hosting events, approval of seasonal decor and landscaping, the menus, anything you could think of. The staff keeps records of our supplies, needs, and what our garden and livestock produce, but a member of the house must remain in charge and aware. I also manage my father and brother, to some extent; helping them solicit invitations to events of interest, assisting them in replies, corresponding with people to whom we are connected including distant relatives, and aiding them in calendars and carriages for their schedules. The count's duties fall to me more often than not as well- ensuring the tithes are collected, tax is calculated and paid to the king, tracking revenue, receiving reports of any issues with the lands or conflicts between the people, endorsing marriages, requesting relief from the crown if unavoidable disaster strikes, visiting problematic areas. There is always much to do," she said, which was a gross understatement. Although her father and brother had attended the father's feast, it had been abundantly clear that she also maintained much of the image and social presence for her family as well.

It was all too much for one person. In an ideal situation, most of it would fall upon the count and his wife, or the count and his heir, and in a worse situation it would be delegated to a trustworthy servant of high pedigree. For the Kaspers, almost everything was handled by Silke, even personal matters that the men ought to have done themselves. Perhaps she was coddling them. She couldn't deny it, that she hadn't let them struggle much before they intervened- though she was acutely aware that they could have dragged down their name and title if their failure was too great.

Galt's offer took her by surprise. He done so before, just not to the degree he had now, and she was knocked so off-balanced that she didn't think before she spoke. "I don't need to..." Silke began before she stopped herself. The appearance of the dagger didn't startle her and, the absolute lack of reaction to a source of harm and danger, was either an endorsement of her trust in her male companion or a sign she didn't have instincts to flinch away from a weapon. Given that she was not a warrior, she knew if he deduced the latter, he could and would be alarmed. That she had been intrigued, curious even, at the prospect of learning the knife, only to reject it hadn't done her any favors.

For a split second she started to panic he'd discover her awful secret- that she wasn't afraid of death at all, that she planned for it, that she expected it lurking around each and every corner. "No, I mean to say I'm not going to..." words failed her again. She took a deep breath and forced herself to not impulsively articulate the thoughts he brought to bear that ought never to be voiced aloud. Silke wasn't certain how to reject his offer without divulging or hinting towards the fact she didn't want to fight for her life. Archery, though a fun distraction and passion, was something she had picked up before she had been swallowed up in grief by tragic loss.

"I doubt I'd have the aptitude," she said then, trying to smile her way through the flimsy excuse. "People don't take me seriously enough to want to harm me," she added truthfully, "and if they did, I don't think anyone prefers Vincent being all the power behind the Kasper name."