Mirana couldn't understand why Iracebeth had become so angry with Time. "All because he told you that he couldn't be your friend?" she asked, incredulous. "He had to tell you that, Racie! You heard what Father explained to us."

"Well, no matter," snapped Iracebeth bitterly, crossing her arms, falling back on the puffy mattress of her bed so she could stare up at the high ceiling to sulk. "I don't want some being made of clockwork for a friend, anyhow. That's probably why he's gone missing. Mother and Father must have exiled him because he wasn't what they wanted, or perhaps they executed him."

"Racie, that's horrible!" Mirana gasped. She couldn't help but feel very worried for the clockwork boy, wherever he was, even if they had never truly gotten to know one another.

"Good riddance," grumbled Iracebeth, rolling her eyes.

Mirana ran her sterling silver brush through her platinum white hair, catching every tangle and smoothing it out until it was as soft as silk, spilling down past her shoulders, and then she tied it back in a pale pink velvet ribbon. If Racie wants to be childish, let her. She can pout and mope all she wants, but it doesn't have to ruin the entire day.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and as of late, it felt strangely and comfortably consistent… linear, a day entirely sure of itself. Mirana went running in her white satin slippers down the cool marble hallways of the palace, searching here and there for King Oleron, too timid to call out his name for fear that she might shatter the tranquil silence of the morning. Finally she spotted him in the kitchen, and before she knew it, hot salty tears were burning her eyes, streaming down her cheeks.

"Mirana!" exclaimed the King, scooping the sobbing girl up into his arms, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Mirana, darling daughter of mine, whyever are you crying?"

"You didn't execute the clockwork boy, did you?" she whimpered.

The King's brow furrowed. "Time? Oh, of course I didn't execute him! Who told you such a dreadful thing, child?"

"Racie says that that's why he's gone missing," Mirana cried, burying her face in her hands.

"Time isn't missing!" the King exclaimed, smiling in determined honesty. "You and your sister haven't seen him lately because I've taken him to be repaired, and nothing more than that, I promise. In fact, my beloved Mirana, he's nearly recovered, and looking forward to having a castle of his own to reside in, it seems. He sincerely wishes to be left alone, and I've encouraged that, but he hasn't been executed at all. You can trust my every word, dearest Mirana."

Mirana sighed in relief, trying to catch her breath as she wiped tears from her long brown lashes. "Thank you, Father," she murmured, "and I'm terribly sorry for accusing you, only… I nearly believed in Racie's every word. She's so angry with Time! She wanted to be his friend, and I suppose he told her no."

King Oleron nodded his head slowly. "Time isn't meant to be your sister's friend," he sighed, "or else I would have had no reason to bring him to Underland in the first place. He's more powerful than poor Iracebeth can even comprehend, and she wants him to be some huckleberry friend from a faraway world, never anything more than that."

Mirana wasn't certain what to say. She knew, as it was so unabashedly obvious, that Iracebeth wanted a close friend of her very own. She could hardly blame her rambunctious older sister for dreaming of such things, and yet… why had she decided upon their father's appointed timekeeper? Maybe it was because the clockwork being had been a free agent in his own world once. She couldn't think of any other reason why Iracebeth would care enough to hope for friendship with him.

She thought for a moment, and then decided, "I'm going to give Time an unbirthday present."

"Mirana," said the King with a wise smile, "Time doesn't have such causes for celebration."

"Shouldn't he have something to remember us by, though?" Mirana suggested. "Some sort of congratulatory present to commemorate his appointment?"

"Well…" the King muttered, his moustache twitching as he spoke, "…yes, Mirana. Yes, I guess that it would be alright for you to do that. After all, Time is no more our enemy than our friend, and so we should keep him on our side, I suppose. I just have one request, dearest daughter… can you ask Iracebeth to help you?"

"Racie? She's in one of her moods again. She'll never help me!"

"Maybe so, but I would prefer that she reconcile with Time rather than hold petty grudges against him," the King replied. "Just ask her. She may be more receptive to the idea than you think, dear girl."