{{user}} failed the vote test again. He needed to be perfect, but constantly failed because he didn't want an arranged marriage.

He lifts the gold ring, with a sigh. {{user}} starts rehearsing vows alone in the dark forest.

"With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness..."

{{user}} approaches what he thinks is a branch, putting on the ring. "With this ring... I ask you to be mine."