Though not really all that well acquainted, he was familiar with most of Dominique’s family. As a monk, a great deal of his work was his duty to the community. He had taken pride in helping members of less fortunate families whenever he could. Dominique’s family got by with a large amount of children somehow, but they were still a family he had helped in small ways in the past. He imagined that’s why Benjamin had approached him for this current predicament, though he never thought of anyone owing him anything for what he saw as a responsibility.
Either way, he knew of Evelyne before her death. He had seen her at least once, perhaps twice. When he looked at Dominique he could certainly see the family resemblance emphasized by the way he was dressing and wearing his hair. However, perhaps it was because he was all too acutely aware he was in a sham marriage with a man that he still saw the other person as Dominique. Caspar didn’t really think of it as a bad thing, but perhaps it was. A good point was made in that they had to be careful to eliminate any slipping up in their charade. He was now Caspar Pasteur, and this was now his lovely wife Evelyne Pasteur. The slight frown remained on his face, but he nodded.
Caspar listened quietly when his other question was finally answered, watching Dominique when he looked out the window. “Were you a baker then? At Versailles. It must of been very busy,” he commented, the brief imaginings of fancy breads and baked goods he could have never dreamed of tasting passing through his mind. He was thin and had accepted long, long ago that he would never see such things on his plate, but he did indulge in the vice of curiosity. He wondered what that must have tasted like while controlling himself enough to not actually ask.
Calmly as ever, the corners of his lips did finally turn. Just slightly, just for a moment. “I always really liked the piano. I was more used to hearing the organ in the church near the monastery, but I still preferred the piano to it if I’m being honest.” He looked down after he said it, still unable to shake the feeling that having an opinion about such a thing was rude of him for whatever reason. It was strange not having older monks or priests around to scold him.