Cullen doesn't mind sitting on the first floor today -- though he does elect a table away from the door. But that's about the temperature and the wind rather than the desire not to be seen.

He folds his cloak over the empty chair beside him. The chess set goes on the table. It would be nice to resist the urge to put his head down on his arms.

(There's a fire in here.)

The question is whether Cabot will supply it. Cabot can see Cullen over there for himself; the mysterious drink from the mysterious shelf is his. Alistair would be well advised not to swap his ale for the commander's drink. Cabot is watching.

Cabot is always watching.