He opened his mouth to correct her calling him lord, then thought better of it. It was hard to build a cover in unfamiliar places, people, and cultures, so why not let one start organically? He could be whatever people assumed. He had rough hands (and a missing ring finger). He was dressed for travel and blending in with monks or scholars. But he had all the education to pass as a lord. He clearly carried a sword, though at the moment its scabbard was empty. He'd turned up on the island with nothing but his clothes.

Whether it was just a figure of speech or actually addressing him as a certain class, it was time to remember his manners. He turned away from the robots just enough to hide his own mouth and spoke quietly, having mastered the art of speaking without being overheard.

"Yes. My apologies for the trouble. I am Altaïr. I will try to get us out of this, Lady...?"