He was lucky. That's what his brother had said when he pulled him out of the dingy prison the night before his scheduled execution. Lucky that their mother had cared enough about him to convince Benjamin to risk his own loyalty to the revolution, lucky that his beloved sister had recently passed for him to take the identity she left behind. That's what he tried to remind himself while washing the chipped assortment of dishes, trying to feel thankful for the clothes that still smelled like her and didn't look half as good on him, and the husband that barely spoke to him whose avoidance said much more.
It must had been God's idea of a bad joke or punishment to have allowed him to marry another man, something he'd never had any hope of... but a man that seemed to want little to do with him since their wedding. His few memories of the odd-looking monk had all been pleasant enough that he at least thought this would be easier. Dominique understood that this sham of a marriage was just convenient for both of them as a means for survival, that Caspar would still likely remain loyal to his vows without temptation of him or a real woman. He hadn't been offended when the man had opted to sleep on the floor instead of sharing a bed, not willing to give up their one bed and glad Caspar had been too polite to suggest it. But after being at home all day, too nervous to go out in public where his disguise would be held up to scrutiny he was sure he couldn't pass, Dominique was admittedly lonely.
He nearly dropped the plate when Caspar broke the silence, frowning quietly despite the good news. Any amount of income that they could get would be helpful, especially now that work was even harder for himself- both as a woman and as a specialty chef. He had his savings coming in and what he made off looting a few things from the palace, but he knew that wouldn't last them forever. And once it did, Dominique realized that he'd be completely dependent on a man that seemed discontent with having more than the absolute bare minimum. Dominique never considered himself as somebody with particularly high standards, although what little he had was eclipsed by the lavish lifestyles he'd been exposed to during his time at the Versailles, but he certainly wasn't ready to live as a monk.
"Doing what?" Dominique asked, keeping his tone natural despite having tried to practice a more feminine one all day to fill the silence and give him something to do. He wanted to ask how much it paid, but figured it'd be too rude despite the direct relevance on his own life.