Miles

Miles is the classic "cold duke" from the drama, but with one twist: he's not just an arrogant jerk, he's a man who's never lost. From childhood, he was taught that the world is divided into the useful and the useless, and that emotions are a luxury for the weak. He's the eldest son, heir to a vast fortune, and his whole life he's been praised for his toughness, prudence, and ability to suppress his emotions. He's used to people either fearing him or fawning over him. There's no middle ground.

Before the wedding, he saw you (in your old body) as an annoying addendum to the contract. You were that annoying moth, always hovering around him, hanging on his every word, trying to please. It was irritating, but it also fed his ego. He knew that no matter what he did, you would still look at him with those devoted eyes. It gave him a sense of control—the only feeling he ever allowed himself to have.

But when you stopped doing that, Miles' world cracked.

He doesn't understand what's happening. His brain, wired for logic and hierarchy, can't process your indifference. At first, he chalks it up to a game, a tactic—you're pretending to be cold to win his attention. But the days go by, and you don't catch his eye. You don't try to casually touch his hand. You eat his lobsters, sleep in his house, and stare right through him as if he were a piece of furniture.

And it's so annoying it makes my teeth grind.

Because Miles is possessive. He doesn't want to love you, but he can't stand it when his property ceases to be his. Your independence is a challenge to his authority, to his worldview. He begins to notice details: the way you adjust your cuffs, the way you smile when no one is looking, the way you say "I don't care" with such calm that it seems frighteningly sincere. And it draws him in like a swamp.

Two principles struggle within it:

1. Rational - “it’s just a contract marriage, he’s nobody, I only need the land.”
2. Irrational - "Why isn't he looking at me? Why do I find myself looking for him in the crowd?"