The sound of a splash, something heavy hitting water at no small speed made Marth break out of his quiet reflection on the other side of it. His eyes widened, a hand instinctively moving to his rapier. He was a soldier. He'd assumed an attack, an ambush, anything other than a man actually falling within, seemingly from directly above it.

"Sir! Sir!" He called out, immediately forgetting all sense of decorum and stately dignity which he'd been forced into at this entire situation. He made his way to the correct side, before... well, his jaw dropped. The man wasn't unconscious. He wasn't in need of rescuing. He wasn't drowning. He was... laughing? If the young prince was honest, he'd have felt the urge to laugh himself. But instead, he extended a hand to pull the unfortunate man from the water.

"Are you all right? Please, take my hand."