Saving the Queen 16

"Are you okay?"

Tristan knelt down on one knee, his concern evident in his eyes as he examined the fallen woman meticulously.

His gaze fell upon her bloodied back and arm, prompting him to swiftly remove the thick gloves he wore. With a determined expression, he extended his hands towards her.

A gentle, white-golden light emanated from his palms, enveloping her wounds and initiating their healing process.

"Y-you're a priest?" Mavis queried, her voice tinged with perplexity.

The presence of a priest was a rare sight, especially considering the grim fate that befell those associated with the Church of Light in the northern regions—executions, rapes, and torture at the hands of demons.

"Not exactly, but I'm not a paladin either," Tristan responded casually, his focus remaining on the task of healing her injuries.

Despite Tristan's kind gestures, Mavis couldn't shake the feeling of suspicion.