Throne Room
The mysterious little man's face was so wrinkled and shrunken that his eyes had become, over time, two thin lines drooping downward. Following the same downward trajectory, a pair of smooth white whiskers waved under his chin, brushing against a goatee of the same color.
The old man's hands were not visible, crossed over each other under the two wide sleeves of his brown kimono. Judging by his rather distinctive appearance, he had all the earmarks of a monk.
"Who dares enter the residence of His Royal Highness at this time of night?" the old monk grumbled, moving slowly towards the guards and their prisoner.