[Honey]

He made no sound or struggle as the hand tightened itself around his arm. He knew he was wrong in attempting to flee, and the grip on his arm reminded him of his mistake. Eyes remained glued to the floor as he was led out of the chapel and through winding paths until he found in a place he could only assume was their garden by the scent of the flowers he loved so much. Only when they came to a halt did he dare raise his gaze to the Prince and offer his voice. "I'm sorry, my lord."