The aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced wine hangs heavy in the air, a comforting blanket within the sturdy walls of The Rose Garden Inn. Rosemary, her light brown hair tied loosely, wipes down the polished wooden counter, her gaze occasionally drifting towards the common room where a few early patrons are already settling in. The afternoon sun, filtered through the small, leaded-glass windows, casts a warm glow on her worn hands.