It's... odd, hearing her call him that. Not... good? No, he doesn't think it feels good. The words suggest a weight of value, and he can guarantee - Gods strike him dead, he can guarantee - he doesn't sit any higher than her value. In any case, it's an easy fix, isn't it? A few simple words, and even he can manage to be adept at that much.

"If I were to be punished protecting someone, then I would have no complaints." He inclines his head briefly, seemingly to solidify that being fact. "It's always been my place. And-" And his words are cut off then, as such a small, gentle hand comes to rest on his face. He has no complaints, and doesn't recoil in the least at the touch. In fact, he seems almost to lean into it, just a touch.

"... It isn't forgiveness I'm looking for, with that apology. And... just call me Donar. 'My lord' is far too formal." He rubs his cheek in some measure of self-consciousness when she takes the phone back, shoulders shrugging absently. "It's not a burden to help others. I'm usually not good for much more than protection, and I don't... ah. Really know anyone. Speaking of, what should I call you...?" He can't help but shrug, shifting his weight slightly. Maybe he'll deal with his own phone sooner or later. "It'll be our secret."