In the darkness of the night, after Mirana had fallen asleep, Iracebeth crept out of the shared bedroom in her glittering ruby slippers, her pink robe billowing out behind her as she moved. She held her breath, soundlessly wandering until she found the small room where Time was kept. She couldn't help herself. She wanted to have a chat with him, to apologize to him without her family overhearing. Mirana would never let me hear the end of it if she found out.

When she stepped into the room, she found that Time was asleep, lying on the bed there. He's the most beautiful thing in the world, Iracebeth thought, leaning over him. His blue eyes were closed, his long black eyelashes dark against his pale almond complexion, and the gold clock embedded in his chest was ticking softly, partially covered by the collar of his black cloak. King Oleron had bandaged his hands, covering the cuts from the Queen's ornamental vase.

When Iracebeth looked closer at him, she struggled not to gasp. Beneath his unbuttoned shirt, his body was covered in stitches and mottled dark bruises. Every time he breathed, his thin stomach shuddered as if it hurt him to even move at all, and he shivered weakly, his shoulders shaking.

Before Iracebeth knew what she was doing, she sat on the bed beside him and brushed back his hair, waking him up. "Hello, Tick-Tock," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with tears.

Time gazed up at her, dazed and surprised. "…You're crying," he said finally, confused. "Why are you here?"

Iracebeth wiped her eyes dry with the back of her hand. "I wanted to visit you," she explained, "and… I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry for everything that I said to you. I called you nothing but a broken clockwork creature who can't feel anything, I called you ignorant, and I was… I was wrong. I was a fool. I'm sorry… can you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, Princess Iracebeth," replied Time, his voice laced with exhaustion as he closed his eyes again. "I don't blame you for anything that you said."

"Thank you," Iracebeth told him in a hushed voice.

"Think nothing of it," said Time simply.

Iracebeth took his hand in her own, holding it against her face. "You're as cold as ice," she gasped, "and it's no wonder. There's frost outside." She searched around for a minute, finally reappearing with a white linen blanket and draping it over him. "May I ask you something?" she questioned, lying down next to him.

"I suppose so," Time answered.

"What happened to you?" Iracebeth asked. "What I mean is… how did you get so badly injured?"

Time froze, lying quietly as he tried to think of what exactly to say. "I was… set to be executed for treason," he finally said, "but the guard at the prison made a deal with a medical researcher in my country. He needed a subject, one who wouldn't be missed."

Iracebeth trembled. "A subject for what?"

"You won't like the answer that I give you," Time cautioned, shutting his eyes as he sank down in the warm blanket, resting his bandaged hands against the soft fabric.

"Tell me," Iracebeth insisted, leaning over him, her bright red hair hanging down over her moony face.

"…Alright, as you wish," Time sighed, defeated. "Dr. Vartija needed a subject for vivisection. He wanted the internal organs of a living person for research." He glanced to the closed window, folded his arms around himself and then closed his eyes again. "It's late," he said, "almost midnight. Eleven forty-seven at night, to be precise."

If he had looked back at Iracebeth, he would have seen her sobbing silently, biting down on her tongue, her throat burning as she tried not to make a single sound. That's what Father meant, she realized, the horror of the words dawning upon her. They sliced open his stomach and pulled out his organs… and Father rescued him. Father repaired him and appointed him here as Time. That's why he's keeping him here for now.

She stared at him, unable to stop a harsh sob from escaping her lips. "You must have been so frightened," she whispered, struggling to comprehend. "You're… you're very brave, dear Tick-Tock."

He started to cry, much to Iracebeth's surprise. Not quietly, but worse, pained whimpering scarred with jarring terror, then wailing bottomless sorrow, not so much of physical pain anymore, but of forlorn abandonment.

Iracebeth shivered. She had never heard anything like it before. Nobody cries like this. People aren't supposed to. You die if you cry like this.

It hit her then that despite having been rescued, Time was all alone in the world. In his old home, his old kingdom, with no parents and no family, he had nothing but freedom to stand for, and he was doomed to be killed for it. In Underland, any friends he made would grow old and die while he outlived them and lost them, one by one, and as she listened to his horrible, panicked cries, it occurred to her that he had only just realized this for himself.

"You're going to wake up Mother and Father," Iracebeth warned, but then she put her arms around him. He leaned against her and cried so hard that he was shaking, clinging to her like a small cat pursued by the vicious jaws of wild dogs. Iracebeth stroked his hair, but she hadn't the slightest idea what to say, so she just whispered, "there, there…there, there… you poor brave soul. I wish that I could help you."

It seemed like an eternity until the crying finally gave way to a soft whimpering, and Iracebeth realized that he was lonely. Not immediately lonely, but he was aware that he would be, forever, alone.

"I wish that your father had left me to die," Time admitted, breathless in the midst of his terrible cries.

"Don't say that," Iracebeth snapped, wrapping her arms more tightly around him. She could think of nothing else to tell him.

It wasn't until long past midnight that Iracebeth fell asleep, but she cared nothing for what time it was. She only wanted the world to freeze for a while, at least until it made sense to her again.