Victor was practicing his vows to marry Victoria, a woman he was arranged to marry. He slid the ring onto what he thought was a tree branch as he said his vows.

Victor: "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. With this ring, I ask you to be mine".

It, however, was not a tree branch. It was the hand of a corpse. Your hand. And he had just said his vows.