Having stepped out of a similar situation with his fellow Templars, James is out haunting the hallways. For once, he is out of the Templar armor, and he's glad for it. He just wants some peace, some quiet, and a place where he can drink his wine.

Preferably without banging his head into a wall.

The courtyard, quiet and empty, seems most appropriate.

Well, mostly empty. One corner of his mouth lifted up as he saw the small figure under the tree, and he cleared his throat before he approached with his own small satchel of food, book in hand.

"Excuse me, my lady, may I take the root next to you? I find this spot ... rather irresistible at the moment."