It's the chance to help her, maybe, that has him straightening with something like duty-endowed pride and smiling wider.

"We have a better chance between the two of us," he says, cheerfully and largely incorrectly, and offers an arm like the knight he knows he is to the lady she's dressed as. (And is, really: of everyone here in this dusty— damp, dust gone— town, she's the most proper). "Please, my Lady Cecelia, this way. What hallways have you tried? I can tell you that there's nothing but empty rooms back down those stairs."