Izzy's Arc

Chapter 7 of 7

The words would not leave her alone. Not the whole verse. Only the part that mattered most. The Lord is nigh… Near. The thought followed her through the morning. It followed her as she dressed, as she walked the halls, as she listened to conversations around her without truly hearing them. Near. She had heard the words from the stranger in the garden. She remembered the way he had spoken them. Not like someone trying to convince her. Like someone who believed them. And somehow that made her want to know more. Which was why she found herself standing outside the library doors. She told herself she was only curious. Nothing more. Her hand rested against the door for several moments before she finally pushed it open. The library was quiet. Too quiet. Rows of books stretched along the walls, reaching higher than she could easily see. Some were bound in leather. Others were worn and faded with age. She stepped inside slowly. Her eyes moved over the shelves. Somewhere in here was what she was looking for. The Bible. The thought made her pause. It sounded so simple when the man had spoken of it. But now that she stood among thousands of books, she realized she had no idea what she was doing. Where did one even begin? Did the castle still have one? She moved along the shelves, searching the spines. History. Letters. Records. Books about kings long forgotten. Nothing. Her confidence faded with every passing moment. Perhaps this had been foolish. Perhaps she should have asked someone. But who? She could hardly walk into the library and ask a servant where the Bible was, as though she had been searching for one her entire life. Her fingers brushed over another shelf. Then she stopped. A worn leather cover rested between two larger books. She pulled it free carefully. The book was heavier than she expected. For a moment, she simply stared at it. Then she opened it. And immediately felt lost. Her eyes moved over the page. Words. So many words. Names she did not recognize. Places she had never heard of. Her heart sank slightly. Of course. How was she supposed to find one verse when she did not even know where the book began? She flipped through a few pages. Then stopped. No. That was not right. She turned back. Then forward again. The frustration was almost enough to make her stop. She knew how to study maps. She knew how to read reports. She knew how to memorize the histories of kingdoms. But here she was, staring at a book everyone else seemed to understand, feeling like she was a child who had never learned the first lesson. She lowered her gaze. "Where are you?" she whispered. Not to anyone in particular. Just to the words. Just to the promise she was trying to find. Her fingers moved carefully across the page. Then she saw it. A word she recognized. A name. Psalm. She glanced back toward the verse in her memory. The Lord is nigh unto them… She searched. Slowly. Page by page. Until finally… There it was. Her breath caught. The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. She stared. The same words. Exactly as he had spoken them. Her fingers rested lightly against the page. She had expected to feel something grand. Something certain. Instead, she felt peace. Like a door had opened only a small amount. Enough to see there was something beyond it. A sound in the hallway made her head lift. Footsteps. Her heart jumped. The Bible suddenly felt far too visible in her hands. She closed it quickly. Too quickly. The cover slipped beneath her fingers as panic rose in her chest. She looked toward the door. And before she could think, she pushed the Bible back onto the shelf. Just as the door opened. Mason stepped inside. Isabella's fingers froze against the shelf. For a moment, all she could think about was the book she had just hidden. Her hand moved quickly, pushing the Bible back into place before she turned toward him. She hoped he had not seen. Judging by the way his eyes rested on her, she was not certain. "What are you doing here?" The question came out more guarded than she intended. Mason stopped a few steps inside the library. "I was looking for you." Usually, that would have been followed by something else. A grin. A teasing remark. Something about how difficult she was to find or how he had searched the entire kingdom just to bother her. Nothing came. Instead, he glanced toward the empty chairs near the window. "Can we talk?" The request surprised her. Not because he wanted to speak. Because he asked. Mason rarely asked for anything. She looked at him carefully. The man standing before her was familiar. And yet… Not entirely. "About last night?" "Yes." Her fingers brushed against the spine of a nearby book. She should have said no. Part of her wanted to. But there was something in his expression that stopped her. Not confidence. Not charm. Something quieter. "All right." Mason released a breath she did not realize he had been holding. They moved toward the chairs near the window, though neither of them sat at first. For a moment, he simply stood there. The silence stretched. Isabella waited for him to fill it. He always did. But this time, he did not. "I do not know if you believe me," he began, "but I never meant to make you feel as though I was mocking you." She looked down. "I know you were joking." The words were honest. "And that was part of the problem." His brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?" She looked back at him. "Because you always joke." The truth hung between them. "When something matters, you make it sound as though it does not." Mason went still. For once, he did not argue. "I suppose I do." He lowered himself into the chair across from her. "I think I learned a long time ago that if people are laughing, they do not look too closely." The words were quiet. Isabella said nothing. She let him continue. "When I was younger, I thought if I could make everyone happy enough, they would forget everything else." His fingers folded together. "The problems, The things my family was dealing with. The things I could not fix." There was no bitterness in his voice. Only exhaustion. Mason gave a small, humorless laugh. "So I became useful." Her heart tightened. "I became the person who could make people smile." His eyes lifted. "And after a while, it became easier to be that person than admit when I was struggling." Isabella watched him. The realization settled slowly. She had always thought Mason was the person who needed no comfort. She had never considered that perhaps he was the person who gave it because he knew what it felt like to need it. "I am sorry," he said. The words were simple. But there was no smile attached to them. No attempt to soften them. "I am sorry that I made you question whether I meant anything I said." Her breath caught slightly. Because that was the part that hurt. Not the teasing. Not the joke itself. The thought that perhaps none of it had been real. "I should have told you the truth instead of hiding behind something easier." His eyes met hers. "And the truth is you are one of the kindest people I know. You see things other people miss. You care when no one notices. You forgive people when you have every reason not to. You walk into a room and somehow make people feel as though they matter." His voice softened. "I have watched you do that for years even when you were hurting. You always think everyone else needs protecting but you never seem to realize you deserve the same." The room suddenly felt too warm. The words touched something deep inside her. Isabella looked at him. For once, Mason was not trying to make her laugh. He was not trying to win. He was simply telling her what he saw. "I should have been more careful with your heart." The honesty of the words made it difficult to look away. "I am sorry, Isabella." A long silence followed. She did not know what to say. Part of her wanted to tell him that she had missed this. Not the jokes. Not the teasing. The person beneath them. "I believe you," she finally whispered. Something eased in his expression. "I should give you time." She looked up. The old Mason would have found some reason to stay. The old Mason would have teased until she smiled. This Mason only bowed his head slightly. "Thank you for listening." Then he walked toward the door. "Mason." He turned. She hesitated. "Thank you for telling me." His expression softened. “You’re welcome.” Isabella remained in the quiet library, staring at the shelf where the Bible waited. She thought about the words she had read. The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart. Perhaps broken hearts were not always as obvious as she had believed. Perhaps some people carried them behind smiles.