[The Servant's eyes followed her as she stalked around him, a critical gaze upon him. Though he watched her, he didn't appear to be bothered or worried by her skepticism. After all, he knew who he was, and he knew very well he was worthy of his title, though he would not brag of such things.

He only offered a small chuckle and an earnest smile.]

Forgive me, but you surely know I cannot tell you who I am. Not yet, anyway. I can tell you "What," though: I am what you see before you, and for now, you can call me "Saber."

Might I ask your name, in spite of my own lack of manners?