It was a blessing that the girl came up upon him when she did, as Caspian was getting dangerously close to full-pout mode, which was a childish but lasting habit of his that he'd never quite been able to break. It was petty, it was annoying, and it was a mood that was very hard to get him out of. But, as was said, he was saved from getting smacked by the sound of a distressed woman's voice, breaking him out of his funk.
Two things happened as Caspian turned toward the sound of her voice, and both of them were fluid, graceful, and second nature. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword, ready in case of any sort of danger following the woman in need, and a warm, comforting smile crossed his face, particularly after he saw that she was alone, and seemed to be alright, aside from being lost.
"My apologies, m'lady," he said, giving a sad shake of his head, closing the distance between them. "I know no more of this place than you do - perhaps less. I only just arrived myself and..." he waved his hand uselessly, looking truly boggled. "But, where are my manners?" he asked, as if she had hidden them somewhere, his youthful good nature still intact after all of these years. "I am Caspian," he offered, extending his hand, palm up, to take hers, intent on brushing his lips across her knuckles in greeting, once her fingers were in his grasp.