Her eyebrows raise- she knows enough of European Muggle culture to recognise these implications. "Saint Peter? Your father was a Pope then?" She nods lightly then murmurs, "Don Cesare. Je suis Victoire. Victoire Weasley. No one so powerful." This last is added teasingly.
She keeps her hand in his and nods once. "Mais oui, merci." She slides elegantly into the chair then crosses her legs, the skirt inching up a bit more to show her upper thigh. "You speak ma maman's language easily. It is one of many you know?"