Syrenrei

[MxF] (Mature; 18+) Looking for Long Term Partner

On the prowl again! Craving a dystopian or supernatural RP. I haven't been able to nail down and keep a good story with magic for a while, and am open to any ideas with magic OR that take place in a setting that isn't medieval (as both my current RPs are in a medieval non-magic setting).

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Silke allowed herself a small smile when Galt confessed- albeit with a sense of humor- that he was dashing. She certainly wasn't in any position to disagree. Being handsome and charismatic was not strictly speaking necessary for him to play the part of a hero, however. It was usually enough to be in the right place and time, armed, and competent with a weapon. More than once she had been tempted to try to create a situation where her brother would look heroic to help bolster his social status. Unfortunately, skilled as he was with a blade, being propelled to a higher station was not a good idea for her only surviving sibling. He struggled enough as a count's heir, even with her notable help, and she couldn't bear him leaning on harder if he had additional responsibilities.

Without realizing what she was doing, she found herself staring at him as he explained his acting abilities. It would have been easier if she could disagree with his assessment. No matter how much she'd flippantly avoid the topic (or, if cornered, deny it outright), she was a wretchedly single and lonely woman. It was only natural that she craved a sort of romantic companionship. She always resisted the urges to indulge her feelings, intimately aware of what a relationship could do if she met an untimely death as she believed was her destiny, yet every time he called to attention his finer qualities, he tempted her in ways she was certain he did not fully appreciate. Internally she sighed and tore her gaze away.

"Orphanages are easier than a hospital. It'll be doable, but it will take considerably more maneuvering to secure all the resources needed to make certain that it would last," she mused aloud. The nobility saw children without parents as a burden; none of them really wanted to take them in and spend any money helping them be raised. As far as the aristocracy was concerned, an orphan was the problem of the village, not them. They'd be all too happy to send street urchins to a central location for someone else to take care of. The sick was a more delicate matter because of the healers that would need to be employed by such an establishment. They could attract matrons for an orphanage with good wages, but many of the best physicians chased prestige and clout, and it could be difficult to staff a hospital appropriately without depriving a village or stepping on a favorite of the local gentry.

The questions about his funds, farms, goods, and subjects took her by surprise. Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at him curiously. "You own land now, as does all the nobility. The holdings aren't as big as a duke's of course, but they are substantial enough you won't be destitute unless you dedicate yourself to trying to find ways to live to excess. I can't speak as to specifics, I'd need to see the details of the documentation you have regarding your appointment, but most counts have fields, some have forests for hunting and lumber, mines for minerals and ore, lakes or rivers... it truly depends on what parcels were granted to you. Because you own the land, those who live on it and work the land will pay you for the right to do so, and you can also charge fees for hunting in your forests, or for the lumber that come for your forests, or any gems found in your mines- although gem mines are typically owned by the king or a duke at least." She shrugged.

"It's a lot of accounting to track," she conceded. "The first two weeks will be the hardest because nothing will be familiar and every day you will learn something new about your property. It will feel overwhelming initially when the people on your lands come to you for help because of flooding, or ruined roads, or bandits in the area," she continued with a wry smile, "so don't be shy about reaching out if you need advice. I'll let everyone believe it came to you naturally on the first day," Silke grinned with a coy wink.

"I've an idea how we might lure some of the bandits out of hiding with bait, but I'd like you to decide who you want to lure out first, and what is more enticing to them. I'll see if I can discreetly procure some maps of the locale to select an ambush site that will neither be too close nor too far away from safety should things go awry." With a purposeful pivot, suspiciously so, she returned to the topic of his financials. "Now, let me show you some of our older records and how I track our income, expenses, and seasonable variability." Silke opened a journal, the interior of which was covered in inked notes. The first few pages had one handwriting, and there was a notable shift to another part of the way through, as if two people had written in it rather than one.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Fingertips rapped thoughtfully on the table as she listened to Galt speak, her head tilted to the side as she listened intently. In many social situations she was careful to temper her stare as she had been told, admittedly most loudly by her brother, that when she was overly focused on a person or topic that her gaze was almost intimidatingly fierce. Silke had no desire to give such an impression and thus took pains to temper her countenance as best she was able. Sitting with the former thief, however, her mask slipped slightly as she concentrated internally on the the issue of the bandits and how best to utilize them to raise the newly christened count to a higher station.

Of course, his long explanation was leading her down the path to the conclusion that the bandits in the area were irrelevant. Surprisingly, he was so firm in his belief that he was eager to learn, and she knew that almost no one had any measure of excitement for mathematics and accounting. What few noblemen she knew had earnest passion for the subject had an entirely different disposition than Galt. Perhaps his skill with a sword and his considerable charms were a result of his upbringing (or lack thereof) rather than his natural inclinations, but she found that unlikely. Either he was deflecting away from discussing his former comrades or he was anxious about his new financial responsibilities. Silke didn't know him well enough to decipher which was the real impetus for his driving their conversation back towards bookkeeping.

"I'm sure you're familiar with the concept of pressing your advantage. Right now, in this moment, you have the advantage of being the hero whom everyone knows and is fascinated with. I'm aware of your objections to being painted as a hero, but it is something you can capitalize upon regardless," she elaborated, turning to glance out the window. It really was quite lovely outside in the palace. Though their location was relatively remote considering how busy the rest of the castle was, it was still lively, and she almost found herself lost watching people through the window.

"There's a variety of ways that lords climb the ranks so to speak. Many marry for power and influence through their new in-laws, an indirect route, but one that is highly successful and reaps rewards for the next generation. Others build their wealth through their cunning and wield it as a means to achieve recognition and prestige. Some are accomplished social adepts that trade in secrets, lies, and truths in equal measure, and can subtly manipulate the court to gain their clout. Each aristocrat presses their advantage, their strength, to achieve their goal."

Silke took a calculated pause to let Galt ruminate over those roads to success she had just laid bare. None of them seemed to suit him, at least not yet, and she wanted him to arrive at that same deduction. He didn't leap at her proposal to introduce him to eligible ladies, and was not enthused about wedding, he didn't have the experience and business acumen to delve deeply into how to benefit through investment and trade, and the fact he was shunning other company implied he didn't have the endurance for spending endless weeks attending every event and function where a peer might attend.

"So," she said, looking back towards him and lowering a head onto her palm. "I thought we might make you into more of a hero. You know how they move, how they think, how they fight, and between the two of us we're clever enough to come up with some plans that will make any conflict have minimal risks." Tapping one piece of blank parchment with her finger she continued more softly. "And it doesn't have to all be for glory. Any spoils, any rewards, we could use for something meaningful to you. I could teach you how to fund a home, a decent one, for children that need one, for example." Silke couldn't understand what his life was before now; she could sympathize, but not empathize. What she kept returning to, though, was how much more difficult everything was after her mother had passed, and how hellish it would have been if she didn't have the security of her father, brothers, and a stable home.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Silke greeted him with a smile, bordering on a mischievous grin, but she waited until her escort had deposited her box on the larger table in the room before she spoke. The servant that had accompanied her up to the higher floor seemed discrete enough; however, if there was one thing she had learned over her many years in the courts, it was to never presume privacy with others around. Her hair had been twisted and coiled on the crown of her head, though today it was not secured by jeweled combs, ribbons, or fanciful braids. Similarly, her clothing was more muted, yet appropriate for a visit to the castle. Rather than large, sweeping sleeves, hers laced up to her wrists, which was still fashionable and exponentially more practical for writing. The gown was a pleasant shade of blue and snug over her shoulders and waist, flaring at her hips into a full skirt.

"It's only fair you didn't know what to bring since I didn't give you a list," she told him, walking over to her box and opening it. She withdrew the blank ledger and the smaller book she had packed. Crossing the room in a few long, graceful strides, she handed him the blank ledger as she sat down opposite him. "This is a gift for you, but before you are too terribly excited by my generosity, it's to help you keep track of your finances. When my mother passed away, I found one she had kept of our family accounting, and it was indispensable in helping me learn and stay organized myself." She held up and opened the smaller book she had brought with her and thumbed through the pages, showing that each piece of parchment was covered in neatly inked notes and figures.

Silke leaned back in her chair and crossed one ankle over the other as she evaluated him for a moment silently. Galt had seemed hesitant to accept her proposal a few days prior, so she was a touch surprised that he was so eager and anxious. Perhaps he was the sort of man that needed to commit to a plan before he could truly invest himself. It was a welcome change, however, and she wasn't about to look a proverbial gift horse in the mouth.

"After we spoke it occurred to me we should start with one of the fundamentals that affects you the most at present. Your estate is still being finished, so you have a rare opportunity to master the basics before you're managing a new household. Don't get me wrong, the politics of the courts is equally important, as are riding lessons," she added with a hint of humor and sparkle of her eye, "but I imagine those can wait a little longer. Getting your new residence in order is also an excellent excuse to miss social obligations until you're ready. Not that you'll have any shortage of invitations," Silke mused aloud.

Since their parting the night they had met, she hadn't been able to avoid all the gossip circulating the newest eligible bachelor. Those who considered themselves her friends were cautious about expressing their interest in Galt. Silke had denied that she harbored any romantic affections for anyone in particular, but many ladies remained suspicious, and that had created its own stir. Daughters of barons, counts, and other prominent members of the nobility saw it as a chance to either compete against the 'darling' of the court. He could be aloof and distance for the first couple weeks of his appointment, but the women would not wait overly long, and soon they would pursue him with renewed vigor unless he tarnished his image in some way.

"There is something else that occurred to me when I was preparing to visit you today. You are now newly wealthy. As you saw when you rescued the duke, having wealth does make you a target. The bandits you saved the duke from- is there any chance that they will seek you out now, for revenge, or out of jealousy over what you've gained?" Silke lifted her eyes from the book in her hands to meet his gaze. She wasn't rude enough to outright accuse him of being part of the brigands; whether he was or not wasn't of any real importance to her. What she sought was information about what had become of them... a detail curiously omitted from the tales she had been told.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

There was (in her mind) an unnecessary amount of time spent consoling her father and brother. Silke was astute enough to be aware of the reasons behind their probing questions. They were both exceedingly overprotective of her despite realizing she could take care of herself. She tolerated their anxiety because she knew that, though they never spoke of it, the loss of Countess Rosamund Kasper and Alistair Kasper had made them a touch paranoid about her health and safety. Both men were passively aware of the fact she shunned all romance, however, so they believed all her reassurances that she had no romantic intentions whatsoever. The gleam in her eye when she spoke of educating him on manners of politics, finance, and management was arguably her most persuasive argument that there would be no adoring gazes exchange. Vincent especially had a hard time imagining any of his friends being dazzled by her business acumen.

Instead of riding one of her horses to the palace, she had arranged for one of their estate's carriages to take her. The driver would have accommodation from the royal staff so long as she was visiting and the horses could be unhitched and refreshed while they waited. Besides the convenience of the carriage, it was a practical necessity, as she had packed two large tomes and one smaller book, a few scrolls, and had secured a blank ledger for him, all of which would be gifts of sorts to help propel him on his studies. These documents had been packed inside a small chest for transport.

She glanced out her window as she arrived and let out a soft sigh. For a few years now she had been driven towards this singular goal of creating a steadfast ally, someone who could stand tall and firm among the nobility, who would bolster all of them and be the support her family needed when she was gone. Now that he arrived in the form of Galt (or at least she hoped), she found herself both excited and strangely depressed. Once she tutored him and boosted him to a higher position, she'd lose her purpose. She would lose her anchoring passion and be adrift and alone, more than she already was, and that was a frightening thought.

As the carriage rolled to a stop, she pulled aside the curtain to glance into the courtyard, spotting a steward running up to greet them. Her driver stepped down from his seat, rapped on the door lightly, and opened it. "We've arrived, my lady." He reached over for the parcel with the books and scrolls and handed them to the nearest guard while the steward escorted Silke out of the carriage. Previously slumped shoulders had straightened, her apathetic expression was a flawless mask of congeniality, and she forced herself out of her melancholic disposition.

"Lady Kasper, is it good to see you looking well," the steward intoned as he began leading the way towards the 'Silver Tower' where Galt was waiting for her. It was a strange place to have an audience, but he had learned long ago that his opinion meant absolutely nothing to the aristocracy, and they would act however it pleased them. He was, however, curious about the pair. Rumors had only intensified in the last few days that the elusive Silke had been charmed by the roguishly handsome new count. That was, after all, what most of her peers would dream of- falling madly in love with an eligible bachelor that would return their affections.

"Even if it's been only three days, it's been too long," she replied with a large smile. "I can't imagine how taxing it must have been for the staff to clean up after the festivities," Silke empathized sincerely. "You'll have to teach me some of your secrets for how all of you move so quickly. When Vincent returns late at night from travel or a hunt that has run long, he's an absolute bear to tidy up after."

"Surely you don't clean yourself!" the steward replied in alarm, successfully diverted from his wild speculation from Silke and Galt. Their guard companion also seemed concerned gauging from his knitted brows.

"I do try," she answered with a cheeky grin, leaning a bit closer. "It's hard for me to sleep when I know he'll be returning that evening, and our staff are all such diligent workers. The least I can do is look after my fool of an elder brother now and again," she said with a wink.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Though she had made the comparison, it felt odd to hear him refer to her as a tutor aloud. As best as she could tell, Galt wasn't that much older than her, if he was at all. Silke was torn between two trains of thought when it came to age. On one hand, more years under one's belt typically added to experience and worldliness, and it was easier for two individuals of comparable age to find a common ground than if there was a large gap. On the other hand, the time one spent on the earth did not always coincide with maturity. There were noblemen and noblewomen with all the wisdom of a spoiled toddler and teenage peasants who were as cunning and sharp as someone twice their age, if not more. Regardless, it was quickly becoming apparent that teaching one of her peers would be stranger in practice had anticipated when she crafted her plan.

Wandering thoughts about their dynamic were stopped cold as he continued to praise her on how she'd be an excellent wife, upping his compliment to include that she'd even be a great queen. Silke felt a pang of guilt for receiving such undeserved flattery. There was nothing she could say or do to politely dispel the illusion. What she felt were admissions she could only shamefully acknowledge in her mind, never state aloud, and certainly never in the company others. She couldn't speak of how she lay awake at night remembering the way her father's face twisted in grief for weeks as she picked up the shattered pieces of their life. Her parents had been madly in love and thus the loss of her mother had been devastating. When her brother died, the knife in her heart twisted, and she was convinced she was cursed. It was superstitious paranoia, but the 'expendable' people in her family had died except for her, and she could not shake the conviction she was next.

"I'm sure you'll be a quick study," she reassured him as she regained her footing in the conversation. It was far from traditional for a woman to be handling the finances of an estate. Silke wasn't aware of any other woman of her stature doing so unless they were a widow without a son or a male relative to provide assistance. She counted herself fortunate that she had been allowed the latitude to learn accounting. Being poor at a subject was one thing, so long as it was tried, but willful ignorance was rather repugnant to her.

The request for honesty took her for surprise and she faltered. Her horse, sensing her uneasiness, stamped the ground as her hesitation grew into a silence after that singular word question. She had always prided herself on her social skills. Generally she could sense what people truly wanted and appeal to them in kind. They would claim they wanted honesty, as Galt had, yet very rarely were they prepared for it. The truth, without tempering, softening, or warping, could be unkind, unforgiving, and unpleasant. Transparency exposed beauty and ugliness without bias, and Silke was not to arrogant to believe that she could be counted among the former only.

"I can understand your trepidation given your background," she began slowly. Galt's offer was tempting. If she would ever think to indulge such a proposal it would be to someone so roguishly handsome and charming. "Just as you fear you would disappoint me, so must I disappoint you. It would be too much to ask anyone to trust a stranger is genuinely acting out of friendliness," Silke continued, "but on personal matters... I can not provide absolute honestly. We all wrestle with ourselves, and what I keep to myself will not be related to you or my helping you."

It was the best Silke could offer. She didn't have friends, not the type of friends Galt was surely talking about. Of all the ladies that followed her skirts through every event, none of them had heart-to-heart conversations with her, shared her burdens, or stayed with her when she was sick. They cared about one another- just not intimately. They sent presents to one another for birthdays, gave advice, and provided company, but she'd struggle to call a single one a confidant. When Alistair died, so had her closest relationship, and perhaps she had not ever recovered enough to allow herself the vulnerability necessary to be a true friend.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

A smile alighted on her lips as Galt asserted only a fool or a madman would think she could be dissuaded. It wasn't exactly the enthusiastic endorsement she would have liked, but his characterization of her determination was nonetheless amusing. Silke did not intend to strong-arm her companion into accepting her offer; she was trying to be persuasive without being coercive. All too often she had experienced the latter with male members of the nobility. Once it became clear she was the woman pulling the strings of her household, and essentially the power behind her father's title, certain aristocrats had tried to brow beat her into heeding their advice and suggestions. She had not, of course, but it made her duly cautious not to catch herself exhibiting the same behavior.

Though concerns about whether she had pressured him into acceptance lingered at the edges of her mind, she couldn't help but giggle a little to herself at his fanciful imagining of how she'd help him climb to greatness. Truthfully he made it sound much more exciting than the reality. Still listening to him quietly, she reached over and helped him stop his horse as she checked her own. Without the sounds of their mares' hoof beats on the worn road, silence enveloped them, adding a gravitas to their conversation. Silke shifted in her saddle. Rationally she knew she was doing nothing the wrong. The stillness of the forest, the dark night, the fog, and their isolation made it feel almost taboo.

Galt's forthright comments about his future flirtations made her raise her brows. That, more than anything else he had said thus far, had been a surprise. Men didn't exactly volunteer that they weren't the marrying type. Commoners could remain unwed, but for a nobleman was unheard of, and any misgivings they had about entering into a holy union went unspoken. There was an obligation to take a wife and produce an heir. There were outliers, those who had only daughters, who lost their spouse, or were childless, but they hadn't simply shrugged off the responsibility itself without a pretense of trying to fulfill their duty. That he was also willing and able to discuss flirting left her momentarily speechless.

Closing her eyes to compose herself, she took a deep breath. A small puff of warm air formed as she exhaled slowly and turned to him, organizing her thoughts. "Perhaps it is best to think of me as your tutor. It is up to how you would prefer to facilitate our arrangement," she explained. "My goal is less to create an alliance so much as it to elevate you to a higher position. I'll help you learn about all the members of nobility, their biases and weaknesses, what political clout and power they wield, and how to best interact with them. I will give you advice, but it will ultimately be your choice whether you heed it. There is also the subject of your financial assets. You'll need some instruction on how to manage your estate." Silke paused a second to let everything sink in. There was more to be taught than she had outlined, yet she thought it best to start with the most important broad strokes, the ones that would be most pivotal to his success.

"As for your... romantic proclivities," she began. Silke had to stop and clear her throat as a blush colored her cheeks. Rarely someone was so attractive to her that she struggled to find a way to stave off their overtures. She knew she had to firmly lay out her boundaries, but she was conflicted, and had to fight herself on committing to stating them aloud. Galt was a more tempting prospect than he would ever realize. "Marriage is an expectation of lords, so I would not proclaim you're not the type. There are many lovely ladies of the court that would be truly blessed to have you as their husband," she told him sincerely.

Tilting her head back to the sky, she pondered her word choice for the millionth time. When she wasn't looking at him it was remarkably easier to divorce herself from the realization she was verbally resigning herself to loneliness, to not giving him a chance to be that dazzling, dashing, heroic, handsome man that the younger Silke dreamed of. "I am myself have an issue of... compatibility," she said more softly with a melancholy tone. "I am glad you value our friendship and you may speak however you like; I only wish for you to chase your own happiness."

"Ah," she exclaimed, recalling she hadn't answered what she stood to gain. "In return for my assistance, I only ask that in the future, should you be able, you use whatever power you gain to help my father and brother should they need it. They may never need it, but I worry about them incessantly," she said with a brilliant smile. It was apparent from the change in her voice that adored her family, speaking of them with warm affection.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

One slender brow arched in amusement as he called her a 'complication.' Silke noted both the subtle and obvious flirtations interwoven in his response, though she was careful not to outwardly react. Galt was handsome and, paired with his heroic story of saving a duke from bandits, could have won over many women. Neither of those were what made him particularly dangerous to her. It was his wealth of charisma that would be her greatest challenge to gently rebuff. She liked what she had seen and heard from him thus far; he was direct, honest, witty, and humble. The newly appointed count was a man that deserved a woman that was still able to dream and hope for a future of marital bliss.

A wry smile twisted upon her lips at his assessment that she didn't seem to want anything of the nobles. He was both correct and incorrect. For the nobility, the vast majority of them assumed that she was secretly as selfish as they were, and was simply more adept at concealing her agenda than they were at uncovering it. They and Galt and were both wrong in very different ways. Silke did want something, just not for herself, and all of her manipulations were her orchestrations for the benefit of her father and brother. On a larger scale, they did impact her positively, though that was a side effect rather than the intention. One day she would be gone, her life at eternal rest, and she needed the peace of mind they would survive beyond.

"You're already playing in a great game," Silke asserted smoothly, unbothered by the fact he had refused her implied offer. "As the king's attention shifts off of you over in another fortnight or two, other men of the realm will increasingly invite you to dinners, hunts, and other such engagements. Nobility with riches and titles are almost engaged in form of politics. You could, of course, reject their social overtures and try to keep to yourself, but make no mistake, absolutely neutrality is not easily maintained. So long as you remain close to Valdemar, his unassailable duke title will protect you, though it will not be absolute." She didn't want to breed paranoia in her companion; however, she felt compelled to impart on him that being a count for the rest of his life wasn't as guaranteed as he might believe.

"You may also be required to turn a blind eye to those more like your seven-year-old self as well, and those in worse plights, to maintain that neutrality," she mused aloud casually. It was true she didn't understand the hardship he endured as a young child. Silke had been born into a loving family where all her needs and wants had been met. When her mother and second-eldest brother had died she learned how trauma could make one incredibly aware of similar suffering in others. She attended every funeral she went to and found herself hyper-aware of girls without maternal figures. She strongly suspected that Galt was the same way when he saw boys that reminded him of himself.

"You are still alive, are you not?" she then asked, without waiting for an answer. "Only the dead and buried are incapable of being taught. I suppose one could argue that an invalid also could not learn, but it's too late to be feigning stupidity, don't you think?" Silke teased.

Reaching over, she took hold of his reins with one hand, clicking her tongue to stop his mare as her own stood in place. She had an important point to make and she wanted to make absolutely certain he listened without the distraction of his horse. "We both know you didn't tell the whole story of the duke's rescue. Can you honestly tell me, and yourself, that escaping him with easier than saving just yourself? That in the moment you calculated for how Duke Valdemar would thank you, how the king would thank you, and that was your only motivation? I will concede I could be wrong, but I believe you acted on instinct," she said as her steady gaze locked onto his unflinchingly. "You took a risk. How many of your former friends would have done the same? How many of the men you met tonight?"

Silke released the reins and pushed a wisp of hair out of her face that had fallen across a cheek. She laughed lightly to herself with a hint of bitterness that bled through. "I assure you I am not what many men are looking for, though I thank you for thinking I am worthy of such attention. They want the idea of me, a wife because they have need, or a prize to be won in a challenge where all their friends have thus failed. If you think I am too severe, at the next social event ask any of them my favorite color, or flower, or constellation, or instrument, or hobby."

She was jaded before she was eligible for courtship and marriage. It became worse as time wore on. Men of lords, barons, counts, and dukes expected women to be enamored with the prestige of their upbringing, to be awed by the sheer consideration of someone of their status. Silke had been smitten with a few here and there that were handsome and charming like Galt, but her feelings usually faded as it became apparent any relationship would be her bending and yielding to their desires, and letting them make every decision without input.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

The evening had proved to be quite productive and left Silke in good spirits by the time she was astride her mare. Admittedly she had drank more wine than she had eaten, which meant she would have quite the headache tomorrow if she didn't have an after-feast snack, but the business proposition from Count Schaude had bolstered her spirits after the spat with Vildraven. It was a shame neither her father nor her brother had any talent for diplomacy or negotiation. Her father was a brilliant, generous man, who was quite aware that he could be taken advantage of financially by manipulative persons, and so he had become relatively paranoid about engaging in new endeavors. By contrast, her brother was a shrewd man who understood the figures but did not possess the social graces to navigate more beneficial agreements. If it appeared too good to be true he dismissed it, and if if the numbers didn't rise to his high standards he dismissed it, without even attempting to broker a better trade.

Thoughts of precious stones, investments, and laborers were chased out of her mind as Galt cleared his throat, presumably to gain her attention. Silke had been leading the way and politely ignoring the poor horsemanship of her companion. It would have been more shocking if he was a skilled equestrian given his commoner background. Riding in her gown was a touch awkward, though it was a small price to pay for the freedom she enjoyed when it was her, a steed, and an empty road. She did did a cursory glance of her surroundings to ensure she knew where they were relative to her home.

The noblewoman reigned in her mare to slow its speed to a more comfortable trot when Galt started to speak and abruptly bolted ahead. Her horse seemed to be as confused as she was. They came to a brief stop before catching up to the newly christened count. Silke couldn't help but smile at his struggles. There was something decidedly refreshing about being in the presence of someone who was not a perfect veneer of composure. Much as she adored the courts in her own way, they could be taxing after a while, both emotionally and mentally. Here where the cool breeze stirred leaves in the trees, and where owls could be hooting a short distance away, it was easier to be human.

"I wouldn't be interested in any man who was won over by batting eyelashes and coy games," she said with amusement in her voice. "For your own sake, I do hope you're careful around the ladies. If you do anything more than have a nice conversation, their fathers will either hastily rush you to exchange vows, threaten your life, or both. One of my brothers, Alistair, came very close several times to being forced into a wedding," Silke added with a fond laugh at the memory.

Noticeably she didn't divulge anything regarding her romantic intentions. As much as she tried to be woman who was indifferent and distant to would-be suitors, she had feelings and wants when it came to affection; rather than act on them, however, she kept them suppressed. She noticed handsome men, such as Galt, as it would have been impossible to ignore them. Whenever an eligible bachelor (and some who were not) approached her that suited her ideals, her breath would catch in her throat and she would fight to bury the attraction. It wasn't always successful.

"As you know, titles are passed from father to son or, should he lack a son, to another male relative. To give credit where credit is due, there are many members of the nobility where there is some benefit to this system, or it at least doesn't create a sizeable issue. Heirs are groomed for the role and their peers, as well as the royalty, help hold fellow aristocrats accountable. That being said," she sighed, "there is definite room for improvement. I'm of the opinion that a new face or two could help effectuate certain changes. I also have personal reasons for wishing to forge strong allies where I see potential." Silke cast an appraising look at him, wondering not for the first time if he could be bolstered into a higher station than a count. More importantly, she considered whether he would reward her help and trust in the way she envisioned.

"I am intrigued to know how you find me impressive. Is it because I have the respect of Count Schaude or because of the extraordinary gossip the older duchesses enjoy spreading about me? A few years ago one dowager claimed my knowledge of commerce could only be explained through supernatural possession," she laughed.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

The quip about a wise man elicited a singular, elegant raised brow from Silke. She wasn't quite certain if he was trying to flirt with her or not; honestly, the only consistent thing about men was how inconsistent they were with their overtures. More likely than not he was trying to sidestep the question with his considerable charm. There was no reason for him to have romantic interest in her: he had his choice of any number of excitable, curious, prettier younger ladies, and he wasn't competing with other nobleman to see who'd win a bet as to who could win her over. The fact his response hadn't been straightforward told her all she needed to know. Galt had a taste for more, although what precise ambition he held eluded her yet.

That he was not deterred by her jilted suitors was briefly fascinating- until he made a comparison to his life on the streets. Silke couldn't and wouldn't pretend she understood what it must be like to struggle to eat or be safe. That wasn't to say that she wasn't without her struggles. As a woman, she was a second class citizen in many ways, underestimated and passed over in favor of a man, and she had deep scars from the death of her mother and brother. While she didn't doubt he was cunning, he was ignorant of the cutthroat nature of the courts, and the stark contrast it had compared to other social circles. He was too cavalier about the threats all around him.

Silke gave no indication she heard Galt's words spoken into his cup. Valdemar interrupted before she could make any sort of reply and she somewhat relished the notion of leaving him hanging, wondering if he had scared her off with his glimpse of severity. Her countenance had been impassive, her eyes as clear and controlled as the rest of her, when he had lost his grin. Only an individual that valued themselves could be scared and, as someone who was apathetic to her future, she was difficult to frighten.

"Lady Silke, it is good to see you!" greeted a man in a slightly pompous tone as he approached their seats at the table. He was a handsome man just shy of his forties dressed in navy blue and burgundy, colors that were understated in the current environment. All of his perfectly coiffed hair was a pleasant hazelnut brown streaked with gray at the temples that only served to make him seem more refined. Galt may have taken care to remember Count Gregor Schaude in particular as he was the wealthiest of all the counts by a substantial margin. His family lineage had a reputation of creating shrewd, cunning men, who were ruthless when crossed. Rumors circulated that his grandfather and father had a habit of torturing any thieves caught on their lands.

It had been lamented by Count Schaude, in the presence of others, how cruel fate was that Lady Silke had not been born earlier or he later. He had wed years before she reached maturity and his sons had not begun puberty. The count had bemoaned his inability to bring Silke into his family. No one mistook his exclamations to mean he was in love with the younger woman; rather, he admired her silver tongue and business acumen and was deeply disappointed her genetics wouldn't contribute to future generations of Schaude.

"Count Schadue, may I introduce you to Count Harrowmark?" she said with a graceful gesture.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Count Schaude said to Galt with a small bow of the head. His flat, perfunctory tone and the small bow of his head were the bare minimum required by protocol. There was no malice from Count Schaude, he just did not care about any new nobleman unless there was something they could do for him, which Galt could not.

Turning back to Silke, Count Schaude smiled warmly, with as much professional affection as he showed anyone in the court. "May I borrow your company for a spell, Lady Silke? There is a business matter I intend to broach with Duke Deduan and your father, and it occurs to me I'd much benefit from your presence during those discussions." It was not the sort of conversation most women would be privy to and, if they were, they'd stand quietly and listen with idle minds. She was, however, quite astute in political and socioeconomic matters, and so she had been increasingly invited by more liberal aristocrats to partake, especially when her advice and help had proved advantageous.

For half a second Silke considered declining. If she were to depart Galt's company now, he'd be alone with Duke Valdemar and the king, without her knowledge or experience to smooth over any stumbles. Her mind flickered back to the confidence he had displayed when she had warned him about her previous would-be suitors. Since he was so certain of himself, she would let him sink, swim, or at least discover if he had any deficiencies. As the guest of honor, any mistakes he made would be overlooked for the most part, so it was his best opportunity to learn.

"Of course, Count Schaude. I'm sure Galt will manage spectacularly without me," she said. She hoped the other women of the court swarmed him with all their coy games, because he'd quickly find ladies would demand commitment for anything more than a kiss, if that. Silke had overheard her brother griping about how insufferable he found the teasing and flirting when nothing could be done without taking a wife. "Is this about that newly discovered gem mine?" she asked Count Schaude with a smile of her own.

"Ah, quick as always Lady Silke!" he grinned. "Your majesty, Duke Valdemar, Count Harrowmark," he added, bowing deeply before circling to Silke and taking her arm, leading her away with formal elegance.

"She's always been such an odd woman," an older lady a few seats down grumbled under her breath. Not everyone appreciated how Silke challenged the status quo.