When Galt first saw Lord Byrne, he had a sickly notion he was witnessing the reason Silke had thus far been unable to return his flirtations, at least to a point. He thought he recognized the man too, albeit vaguely. Likely he had seen him at the banquet at his coronation, or perhaps in the crowd during the ceremony. Either way, he had gotten close enough to the two to overhear a bit of their conversation. He was used to eavesdropping, but somehow with Silke he felt a bit guilty, even if he actually hadn't meant to eavesdrop at all. He simply had arrived and halted for a few brief moments so he would not interrupt. 

But what he heard made his blood run cold. His head burned a bit, and he had to take a few long, deep breaths to calm himself. Even with the smell of horse and straw, he thought it might help. Galt found he was surprised at the reaction his body was getting at this honestly unsurprising news. It would be normal for Silke to be married off, wouldn't it? Still, she seemed so confident it was not to happen that he had started to believe her, and that perhaps they might... 

No, he wasn't going to be immature about this. He breathed in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. An old trick he had been taught when in tight situations, and he simply stepped out into the doorway and approached the two. He nodded to Lord Bryne as the nobleman walked past him, exchanging quick pleasantries before Galt found himself standing before Silke. "I just ate, but I admit I am looking forward to dinner as well." He said by way of conversation, though the words fell out of his mouth like stones, amounting to nothing but filler. 

"I heard what he said. I um..." Galt crossed his arms, unsure of what to say to her. Should he comfort her? Tell her he would do whatever she asked? That would be overstepping it, but it's certainly how he felt at the moment. That very notion confused him too. He was acting like a street urchin. "I wish I could say something that would change the reality of the situation, but maybe the rumors aren't entirely true? I'm no stranger to such things. Whispers can amount to gold or dust, depending on who's lips they escape from." Galt had spread more than a few himself in his day, and the ex-thief leaned against the stall, the horse behind it nickering. 

"If they are true though, I know marriage isn't your thing." Ok, that was stupid to say. It was true, but also an uncouth way of putting it. He knew she worried of her family most of all. "But you would want to stay here, regardless. Perhaps we could get married and save yourself taking the trip up north." He said with a wink. He was joking, but he spoke in a way that exuded confidence, almost a smugness, like any good joke of the sort would.