The doors to the brig open up, to which the insides reveal it's actually a wine cellar, being used as a cell for a certain Mercenary under the Maquis's employ. A man characterized by hate and war, someone who's made it abundantly clear he'd rather die fighting then sit around and wait for the law.

James was pacing back and fourth, muttering something underneath his breath, going on and on about Lieutenant Bouchard, and what she's planning on doing in Paris. But he quickly snaps out of it once he see's who's entered the damp and cold 'cell'.

"... What? Come to point and laugh, huh? Prick..." Grayson looks away, gritting his teeth as he looks away, clearly not in the mood for visitors, or French people. It could be both, really.