Galt, as well as any commoner, had opinions and conceptions of what many called 'the assholes in charge.' He figured there were a few good eggs, but the serfs and the lower class in the city had seen one too many horrible people with the power to abuse dozens, hundreds, if not thousands of people. The fact that a few of the menfolk of the nobility were disrespectful or ignoble when it came to ceremony and manners wasn't too big of a surprise to Galt. He was about to make such a remark when Silke rested her head against him, and his snide remark dissipated as swiftly as it had come. 

"I would like to help," He assured her, reinforcing his earlier sentiment. Even if the help he gave was staying out of her way or focusing on his studies, he wanted to make the process as clean and stress-free as possible. Plus he did have a desire to be a bit hands on with the whole thing, but he also realized he had no idea how or even what went into the planning of a wedding. There were the invites and the venue and the food, but other than that, it was really a mystery. He supposed the clothes... 

Galt wasn't expecting her questions, but she was right. He really did not know who he wanted to be, yet. He still felt like this whole thing was a masquerade that he somehow lied his way through, even if intellectually he knew that was false. Technically he did use some of his acting skills to make himself look more the part, but he had also never been more open in most of his life as the past few months. And to what he wanted to be? The whole thing seemed overwhelming to him right now, and just when things had started to look more simple. He and Silke, as much as she fretted over it, that was simple. It was warm and nice, and despite her words, she seemed to feel the same. 

Almost without knowing it, his cheek rested against the top of her head. Her hair was soft, and she was as warm and welcoming as the fire. Her words somehow elevated the feeling. 

"Thanks," He said, honestly touched. Slowly, his arm snake around her waist. It was a familiar touch, but chaste. There was a modicum of feeling there, as if this was how it had always been. Strange, they had yet to share a kiss but already he felt as home right here with her.

He almost said he knew she would be a good wife too, but somehow he felt it would ruin the moment. As if speaking the words aloud cheapened the meaning. So he merely sat there with her, and his mind wandered back to the first time he stood with Duke Valdemar and the King, and he first met Silke. He remembered how pretty she had looked to him then, and the intelligence behind her eyes that endeared him. He had no idea how much she would teach him, and then he had a thought. 

"Hey, what did you think of me when we first met?" He asked. Galt smiled, always ready for a joke. "Other than being really handsome, of course. I feel like that's a given, ya know?"