Unfortunately she's too Chelish for the doctor to be able to tell she finds this interaction terrifying rather than mildly unpleasant.

He just grabs her hand himself, not even roughly, and unwraps it.  "Mhm, no you didn't, that's had a day or two to get messy. You couldn't have at least cleaned it?"  That last sentence is clearly a reprimand, with a frown, but he doesn't wait for a reply, just tells the nurse to get a bowl of water and wash it properly.  The girl doesn't seem either very inclined or very competent to do it herself.

"I was travelling, sir, there wasn't a priest around."

"A priest?"  He stares at her blankly for a moment.  What does that have to do with anything?

"...to make the water, sir. There weren't a lot of rivers on the route from Sofrituró."

Does she... believe in some kind of superstition about how you can only wash wounds in holy water?  Well, he's heard weirder things, but then the bit about rivers doesn't make sense.  It almost sounds like she thinks priests are where rivers come from??  There were some miracles about springs, he recalls vaguely, but surely nobody can really be that confused...  No matter, and definitely not his problem.  He sighs.  "You don't need a priest* for any of that, but you really shouldn't travel without clean water.  No wonder you look awful.  ... Uh, have you gotten food and water today?"  Maybe she's just too hungry to make sense.

*he uses a different word from the one she used, one specific to his religion instead of a generic one, but I don't know what the translation does with that - in a lot of languages including English they're the same word, Polish just happens to have kapłan vs ksiądz.

He's claiming to be — some sort of heretic against Asmodeus, working with some sort of underground priest? That's obviously some sort of test, only she can't see what the right answer is supposed to be, even if she were a perfect little loyal Asmodean it's not like she could turn him in when she can't even walk.

"I had breakfast before I came here," she says, which is easier than figuring out how she's supposed to answer the loyalty test.

Oh good, he's glad he doesn't figure out how to feed her on top of everything else.  And all the confusion about priests can be someone else's problem.  "Great. I'll give you some vitamin pills just in case, once you can sit up."

And in the meantime the nurse will come over with a basin of water and some soap to get her hand properly clean, acting somewhat annoyed about her continued unwillingness to move at all to help in the process.

Well, she's not stupid, she knows how this sort of "act mad that someone is following orders, then punish them when they break them" game goes. (That one wasn't all that popular back home, no one who could get away with that really needed that much of an excuse, but it's not like it's complicated.)

The next thing that happens is the doctor pouring some sort of dark intensely purple liquid over the scrape on her hand - again with a cursory warning that it'll sting, and it does, but nowhere near badly enough to feel worth it as a punishment by Chelish standards.  She gets a normal clean white bandage on top of the purple-stained skin, and the doctor looks her over thoughtfully.   "Does anything else hurt?"

Well, she's kind of sore all over from the running through the woods and sleeping on the ground and so on, but she's not going to just say that. She shakes her head.

"All right, wait there until the cast sets, and we'll try to figure out what happens next."  He turns to the nurse.  "Mrs Jadzia, can you find the phone book, or maybe the government agency listings I'm pretty sure we have someplace, and see if you can find who in Kraków we should call about a child who needs somewhere to stay?"  He doesn't want to say 'abandoned' in front of her, but, well.  "Not the police, I don't think."

He glances at the girl to see if she has any reaction or questions about this, but - he might as well let someone more qualified explain what's going to happen.  (Yes, yes, if he was a better person he'd sit down and talk through it with her himself, but she's hard to talk to, and so quiet that it's easy to just not do it.)

Is the idea here that maybe she's just really stupid, and somehow didn't notice him admitting to primary worship, so they need to make their stupid test of loyalty even more obvious by having him talk about how he won't go to the town guard? They know they can just kill her, right, it's not like they have to go through all this effort to justify it. The names are — probably not part of it, she thinks, it's not like he called the woman Heavenia or something, they're probably just names she hasn't heard before.

Mentioning going to the government, but not the town guard is... she doesn't actually have a good explanation for how that fits into the loyalty test. Maybe it'll get more obvious once someone else actually shows up, they're probably not expecting her how to figure out how to report him without there even being anyone to report him to?

Calling her a child could be part of it, she did tell them she was sixteen, if they think she's lying about that maybe they're hoping to trick her into just going along with it? And that's the only part it would make sense to bring up to him, or at least the only part that she's noticed. For all she knows it'll turn out that Kraków is secretly a barony in Andoran province, or something. Even if she's wrong, they probably aren't going to punish her specifically for pointing out that she's an adult if she didn't have to, unless they've already decided to torture her to death and they're just trying to come up with as many different reasons to tack on as they can, in which case nothing she tells them actually matters.

"I'm sixteen, sir."

"Yes, you said."  He has the politely incomprehending look of someone who doesn't understand why he's being told something.

Maybe as part of the loyalty test he's pretending to be a heretic and also kind of stupid? Or something?

If he doesn't have any other questions for her she'll wait quietly until someone else shows up.

There are some long phone conversations, the outcome of which is that a few hours later an impatient-looking woman shows up at the clinic and starts asking her questions, starting again with her name, age, date and place of birth, and so on.  She looks at the nurse's piece of paper, but apparently wants to hear it all again herself.

She repeats everything she wrote on the paper, including the part about not knowing exactly when she was born. (...Now that she's thinking about it she thinks she might've been born in the spring, but she's guessing from her mother's stories about wizard school, and the person she's pretending to be wouldn't have heard those, so she's not going to mention it.) She doesn't have any particular trouble telling the same lies the second time.

"There's no such place.  And I'm pretty sure that if we call the demographics office it'll turn out there's no such name registered either.  So, are you an uneducated Gypsy girl, or are you just lying?"  She makes both options sound pretty contemptible.

If they've got a list of everyone's name in the whole country then she's just going to die, even more than she was already going to die, it's really the sort of thing she should have thought of, obviously the Asmodeans would want to be able to keep track of that sort of thing, and it makes sense why they wouldn't tell anyone—

—but Sofrituró's a real place, it's not really where she's from but it really exists. So they're lying about something, and maybe they're lying about that too. She doesn't know if it's likely, but — if they're telling the truth then she'll die for sure, and if they're bluffing then maybe there's still a chance she can survive this.

Probably if it's a bluff it's the sort of bluff where they're accusing her of lying to see if she admits to it. 

"I'm not lying, ma'am. You can check with the demographics office if you want."

A sigh.  "I will, but there's hardly a point."   But maybe she is just unregistered and uneducated and confused about everything.  There's something off about her clothes, and about her reactions too, really.  "So, this place you're from.  Where is it?  What's it like?  Who lives there?"

"It's a few days walk that way." She points. "...I think. I could tell you for sure if we were outside and back by the woods. We're... I mean, as far as I know we're a pretty normal farming village, but I guess if they do things differently out here I might not know? And then there's the laundry wizard, and he also runs the school, and sometimes a priest comes through on circuit. I live with my parents and my little siblings and my grandma, and my uncle used to live with us too before he died."

"The... laundry wizard?  What is wrong with you, girl."  All right, yes, she's wildly making things up. 

Maybe she's just weirdly insistent on wildly making things up but will go home without a fuss if they can figure out where that is?  "Could you find your village on the map for me?"  She has a weirdly bound book of maps, looks through it, finds the right page.  "We're in Chełmek, here."

?????

They have a whole book of maps? And they're just showing it to her? Presumably they're not totally accurate, but she didn't know anything like this even existed. (And that must have been so much work, her mom can hang a Scrivener's Chant if it's the only thing she hangs that day but she couldn't do a drawing...)

She peers at it. (Is it even pretending to be a map of the whole country, with Andoran too, or just the... whole county? Whole barony? Something else?)

It looks like this page is probably just the local region, but there are so many pages, and they all looked kind of similar when the woman was flipping through them, like it's one giant map of quite possibly the whole country cut up into small pieces to fit into an evenly bound book?

Also just this region has so many villages and towns and roads in it.  Which matches what it looked like when she was walking around and kept running into them, really.  There isn't a big forest anywhere on this page, either, just patches of little woods.

The village and town names are so dense they cover most of the page in small letters.  She can't find any she recognizes.  (And they don't really sound Chelish, either.  Czernihów, Przytkowice, Libiąż...)

Maybe this is another test, and they're showing her a map that's just totally made up to see if she goes along with it. Except what sort of person has that much money to spend on a book of fake maps, and can't just hire a Detect Thoughts wizard if they really want to know? And the foresty parts and the rivers right around here line up with where she's been, it's just that the parts around where she actually lives look completely wrong.

Maybe these people are faeries, and she accidentally ended up in a faerie town, and when she leaves it'll turn out that a hundred years have passed and everyone she knows is dead. Except they look like normal humans, apart from being weirdly tall, and she's not sure if faeries ever take people who'd like it if everyone they knew was dead.

Maybe these people really are a bunch of secret heretics against Asmodeus, and the names are all Celestial or something, except then the area around her lord's manor should still look right, it should just be the names that are wrong.

(Maybe she's just totally misinterpreting the map, it's not like she's seen one before.)

"I think it'd be around here," she says, tracing a circle around a town marked in what she thinks is vaguely the right area for Sofrituró, "but the name's wrong, so I'm not sure."

Hopefully that's enough that if it is yet another test it won't seem like she's just going along with their story. (She's trying not to get the location exactly right, if they actually drag her back to the town she picked out it'll be obvious that no one there knows her, but she wants to be close enough that if they do know where it is, it won't be clear that she's lying about where she thinks it is. This would probably be easier if she knew any geography.)