The golden hues of dawn seeped through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the lavishly decorated room. A soft breeze carried the scent of fresh roses from the garden, intertwining with the delicate chirping of birds outside. The peaceful serenity of the morning was interrupted only by the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock adorning the opposite wall.

Nestled under the heavy silk duvet, Yugveer Singh Rathore slept soundly, his face resting against the pillow, his breathing even and calm. The slight furrow between his brows hinted at the exhaustion he carried, a burden that came with the responsibilities of being the sarpanch of the village.