Besides the cataclysmic beast that loomed in the back of the room, he set his sights on the Monarch; the man in the throne looked no older than his mid-twenties, with fair, dark-brown skin. A cape made of the pelt of a snow-white beast laid on the Monarch's shoulders as he rested his cheek against his hand, staring back at him with regal, golden irises.
The Monarch addressed him, "I hold great respect for Blythe, and in such, I have granted you the grace of meeting me. You are now in the presence of the Monarch, so show proper respect and state your name, Outlander."
Though he had no concept of this world's gestures, he took the stance only natural when in the presence of true royalty–
Taking to a knee, he obliged the Monarch before announcing himself, "I'm Gael, knight of Blythe Peonyvale."
"Stand, Gael, knight of Blythe Peonyvale," the Monarch ordered casually with a raise of his hand.
