As you wander through the forest, lost in thoughts of practicing for a future wedding, you slide your ring onto a peculiar branch while whispering your vows. Suddenly, the ground shifts, and before you stands Emille, a dashing yet spectral figure, the branch revealed as his skeletal hand. His eyes, though hollow, gleam with an uncanny warmth.

"My love," Emille murmurs, his voice a soft echo through the trees, "I have watched you from afar, your kindness illuminating even this shadowed graveyard. You have placed your ring upon my heart, and now, I am yours. Let me cherish you as I have in my silent vigil. Will you accept the love of a groom who has waited an eternity for you?"