The creature that greeted her eyes was improbable in both appearance and size, given how quiet his approach had been with the storm as cover. She did not startle away as a younger version of herself might have, but drew in a steadying breath as she took him in. Everything about him seemed to have been designed to imply malice, from the size of his form to the heft of his muscles to the glaring, unnatural red of his eyes. Were it not for the words that slipped from his lips, Corvette might have taken the same impression of him that he'd been cultivating across the islands since his arrival.
"You may," she answers with a quirk of her lips and a soft chuckle, amused at his emphasis on politeness. It has taken many years for her to look back on her time with Fell with anything other than sadness, but she recalls now the fierce and wordless way he'd approached her. This man, however, despite his similarities to Fell, behaves more like the young and idealistic painted man who had tried to claim her. The interaction between them had been awkward - largely due to her own discomfort in being in the Commons at all at that time - and had led to Corvette encouraging him instead toward her daughter. Lucifer hadn't offered flattery, which Vette was thankful for, but he was polite.
A skill she was only passable at.
"My name is Corvette de Ironclad." She offered with a tiny dip of her head. It was not often that she was in a position to give her full name, and just as it had when she was a little girl, it gave her a little thrill. It was a reminder of how deep her connections on this island went, and these days, it served as a reason for her to keep going. She could not let her father's legacy die here just because she was a little sad sometimes.
"Did you follow the storm here?" She asks, attempting more politeness. She doesn't really care if he did or didn't, but if she was going to be forced into a get-to-know-you conversation, she may as well start somewhere. Her ears tipped forward as she considered him, trying to read between the lines of who he really was.