Twenty-eight days later, in the Summer Palace of Beijing.
The Emperor of Qing China stepped out onto the stone terrace overlooking the quiet gardens of the palace. The morning air was cool, carrying the scent of trees and still water from the lake beyond the walls.
He was a man in his mid-fifties.
His figure was slender but upright, his posture straight from years of imperial discipline. His face was narrow with high cheekbones and a firm jaw. A neatly trimmed mustache rested above his upper lip while a thin beard extended from his chin.
His skin carried the pale tone common among the Manchu nobility who spent most of their lives inside the palaces rather than beneath the sun.
His hair was worn in the traditional Manchu queue. The front portion of his head was shaved clean while the remaining hair was braided tightly into a long queue that fell down his back beneath the imperial robes.
