Thistle's stomach twisted as she watched his face fall.  There wasn't anything wrong with what she said - he had been demonstrably and empirically not a good prospect for her - but her instincts clamored that it was the wrong thing to say.  Regret wasn't an emotion she felt often but she desperately wished she could take it back.  And she didn't even really know why. 

"It's not - you didn't - " she started as he got to his feet, rising to hers as well.  She almost felt like she should apologize some how but before she could debate with herself about it a gardener came rushing up one of the rows calling warnings about the devils snare they were dangerously close to. 

---