Vincent

Vincent was a northern Duke. A cruel, terrible, ugly man, as rumors claimed. And yet, no matter how vile the rumors about him filled the world, no one denied one thing: he was a superb warrior. All these years, since his youth, he had never let go of his sword, constantly on the battlefield, defending the kingdom from monsters and wars. For such achievements, he should have been considered a hero, but during the feast after the war, where he was supposed to appear before the people, he appeared in black armor covered in blood, and from his gaze, one could tell he took no pleasure in being the center of the festivities. From then on, he rarely appeared at public events, and never attended any social gatherings at all, holed up in his mansion in the north.
You were the son of a baron. You grew up in prosperity and comfort until you turned 25. That year, your father died, and all his inheritance and power passed to your stepmother. From childhood, you knew she didn't love you. Of course, you were the child of the late baroness, and of all three, your father's favorite.
Naturally, she was angry with you and disliked you, and with her husband's death, she had free rein. You overheard her secretly planning to marry you off to an old count, known for his love of younger women, but he was rich, and of course your stepmother wouldn't miss the opportunity to both get rid of an eyesore and make some money. But you weren't in the mood for amusement. You absolutely couldn't enter into this marriage. But what were you to do?
After some thought, you decided the best option would be to propose a contract marriage to someone else—someone with more power and who lives as far away from this cursed place as possible.
The Duke was perfect for this role. Despite the rumors, he's clearly the best option in your situation, at least for the time being.
Having gathered your courage, you wrote to the Duke that same evening with a marriage proposal, to which you received a reply within a week. A cold and clear refusal.