The deposed King Thibaw of Burma lived in virtual seclusion with his wife and family for the better part of thirty years. They resided in a large rambling house just outside Ratanagiri, a small town along western India's hot and humid Konkan coast. Though not strictly confined to the house, he could only leave his compound with permission, and rarely ventured outside. He took little exercise, ate copious amounts of fried pork, and was surrounded by a still considerable retinue of servants.

On 11 October 1915, just after the long rains had finally ended, the old king's second daughter disappeared without warning to the residence of the Political Officer. She was a friend of the Political Officer's wife, Mrs Head, and had left to solicit her help. For several weeks, the Second Princess, as she was known, had carried on, against her parents express wishes, a relationship with a former royal secretary named Khin Maung Lat. A few years back, her elder sister, the First Princess had married against Thibaw's wishes, an Indian who was employed at the house. This was seen as a most unsuitable match, but the old king and queen later relented and the young couple, with their little daughter, were eventually welcome back. But here Thibawhad drawn the line. Marrying a foreigner was one thing. Marrying a Burmese beneath one's class, a Burmese descended from court retainers and a former servant of the crown, this was beyond the pale. For several years, a succession of British officials, Collectors and Governors had schemed to find eligible partners for Thibaw's four daughters, all of whom were well into their twenties.