Count Kasper had turned to Silke, wanting to take in her expression and body language before replying. While she wasn't the sort of person who would be coerced or manipulated into anything she didn't want, as everyone knew, he still searched her features for confirmation. As a father who adored his daughter, he took her future happiness very seriously, and thus he was compelled to give the moment the gravity it deserved.

The brief silence was disrupted, however, by Vincent. "Why did you accept?" His question was directed at his sister rather than Galt. It wasn't that he didn't trust the newly appointed nobleman; he liked him well enough. What he found suspicious was that his only surviving sibling, who had been passively opposed to all marriage proposals until this point, was suddenly planning to wed. The issue with the north was compelling he could admit. He also realized (begrudgingly) that the former peasant was heroic and charming when compared to most of the aristocracy. Despite all of this, this was a stark departure from the Silke he thought he knew.

Sensing the tension, and Silke's slight hesitance, Lord Byrne cut in. "Well, sometimes when a lady really likes a man..."

"Don't patronize me, Byrne," Vincent snapped back, in no mood for jesting.

By now Silke had composed herself. She took a deep breath. Much as she'd like to wax poetic about love and romance, she couldn't. It wasn't that she didn't care about Galt. Deep in her heart she knew that she did, just not to the depths perhaps everyone would hope preceding a wedding. Because of the traumatic way she had lost her mother and brother, she reigned in her emotions, forbidding herself from feeling too much or becoming overly attached to anyone. She knew that she could die just as unexpectedly as they did at any moment. While she couldn't prevent her eventual death, she [i]could[/i] control the damage she left behind. In her mind, being kind but distant would mean those left behind wouldn't be as devastated than if she showered them with unending affection.

"What man would you have said yes to if you were me?" she asked patiently. Vincent opened his mouth a couple times to answer, then became visibly frustrated when he couldn't find a suitable name. Most highborn men cared only for the connections that their future brothers-in-law or sons-in-law would help forge. They approved candidates that were influential, wealthy, and powerful, especially if they were malleable. Some were pickier, wanting happiness in the future of their female family members, but they generally assumed that if a courtship progressed to a proposal and it was accepted, that was good enough. For Vincent, however, he was protective to a degree that was exceedingly rare among his counterparts. No one was good enough for [i]his[/i] sister.

"I thought you wanted to stay here with us," he grumbled, deflating. His voice belied he was scared. For years now he and his father had come to rely on the patient, consistent presence of Silke, who handled everything on their behalf that they couldn't or wouldn't do themselves. Since the Kasper matriarch passed, she managed the staff, the finances, the estate, the tenants, the taxes, their social calendars, and everything in-between. She knew what was in the kitchen at any given moment, how the crops in their lands were doing well and which were failing, what merchants overcharged for their wares, and what lord was in dire straights due to having no named heir and numerous illegitimate children.

Clearing her throat, Silke looked down at her food, and then at her father. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing everything," she told him quietly. The statement hung in the air. Both Kaspers were uncomfortable. As much as they adored and cherished her, neither one of them wanted to confront the reality of the toll it was taking. As she got older, it would get harder and harder for her to balance the duties and responsibilities they otherwise ignored. The body could only endure so much. She slept the absolute minimum (or less), skipped meals when she deemed it necessary, and was always in action, be it writing letters, attending balls, or inspecting buildings on the edge of their property with laborers.

"Well, you have my blessing," Lord Byrne quipped to lighten the atmosphere. Silke smiled at him across the table. "I shouldn't speak for my wife, but I'd be willing to wager you'd have her blessing too, Count Harrowmark." He lifted his eyebrows meaningfully at the elder Kasper to him encourage him out of his stupor.

"If my daughter accepted your proposal, which she has, then you have my blessing," Count Kasper finally said. Tears brimmed in his eyes, which he dabbed at with his napkin. "The house won't be the same without her," he confessed. "I will put my trust in you to take of her no matter how much she insists she can do everything herself."

"You'll need a feminine touch here," Lord Byrne remarked with a sigh, then turned to Vincent with a mischievous grin. "Do you need help arranging a marriage, Lord Kasper?" Vincent, who had begun to brood and sulk over 'losing' his sister, nearly spat out his drink, his face turning a lovely shade of red to match his wine.