This was Baron Malfalconnet, one of the Emperor's major-domos.

He was permitted to do what no one else ventured, for his cheerfulness and wit, his gift of story-telling, and sharp tongue often succeeded in dispelling the clouds of melancholy from the brow of his imperial master.
At Wolf's entrance the baron greeted him with merry banter, and then whispered to him that the regent was expecting him in her private room, where the leaders of the newly arrived musicians had already gone.

As Wolf belonged to the "elect," he would conduct him to her Majesty before "the called" who were here in the waiting room.
As he spoke he delivered him to the Emperor's confidential secretary, Gastelu, whom Wolf had often aided in the translation of German letters, and the latter ushered him into the Queen's reception room.
It was the royal lady's sleeping apartment, a moderately wide, unusually deep chamber, looking out upon the Haidplatz.

The walls were hung with Flanders Gobelin tapestry, whose coloured pictures represented woodland landscapes and hunters.

The Queen's bed stood halfway down the long wall at the right.
Little could be seen of her person, for heavy gold-embroidered damask curtains hung around the wide, lofty bedstead, falling from the canopy projecting, rootlike, above the top, where gilded child genii bore a royal crown.