Aradhya stepped out of the black sedan and adjusted the folds of her cream silk saree. The evening air in the hill station felt cooler than the plains she had left that morning. The alliance leader’s residence rose ahead of her, a sprawling white bungalow with tall arched windows and a wide veranda lined with potted palms. Two uniformed guards at the gate had already checked her name against a list and waved the car through. She carried only a slim leather folder containing the draft alliance agreement. Her party needed the regional outfit’s fifteen seats. Without them the numbers would not add up.

A young aide in a starched white kurta met her at the steps.