The lake and woodland have no comment.

There's a little house over there.

And a distinct lack of her castle. It might be that the castle is masquerading as the house, but that's a faint hope. Still. A house means people. And people are rather necessary to her continued survival. 

She walks up to the door of the little house, and knocks sharply three times.

The door opens.

It's a short and spindly little man with offensively yellow hair and dragonfly wings. He blinks at her. "Why hello," he says.

"Hello. Would you happen to know where I am, by any chance? I seem to be lost."

She does not comment on the wings. She's already standing in sunlight: this day can't get much stranger from her perspective.

"Well, I'd have to know where you were lost from to tell you anything useful," says the little man. "Come in come in, what's your name?"

Mm. Should she use her title? Whoever this is, they speak Victorian. Throwing her weight around will probably help more than it hurts. 

"Countess Lioncourt, though I'm not certain if the title will mean anything to you. Have you ever heard of Grand Victoria?" 

"The title's not familiar, and nor is Grand Victoria - do you just go by your title all the time? What about among friends?" He flashes a smile. "Can I get you something to eat?"

Rather overly forward, this little winged man. 

"Though I appreciate the offer, I'm not hungry. And, begging your pardon, you're not my friend. I don't even know your name."

"I'm Yellow," he says cheerfully.

She smiles. "Isabella."

Grin. He has very sharp teeth. "Don't tell anyone else that. Stay."

... She lets out a soft whimper, and stays. 

(She told herself never again and now is never

remember how she got out from beneath her sire last time

this doesn't work the way vampires do

he needed her name does it work the other way she hopes it does

she is going to violently dismember this insolently yellow creature 

she needs to act before he can give her any more orders

she has to stay but what can she do without moving -

she can still talk)

"... What are you doing to me."

"I haven't decided yet! What are you good at, tell me."

"Gardening. Surgery. Making tea. Ruling. Being beautiful." 

She doesn't have to answer completely. A small mercy. Play up the charm, get him to look you in the eyes. 

"Surgery?" Headtilt.

"Cutting away disease from the body. Healing wounds. Splinting broken arms, extracting arrowheads or bullets, repairing damaged organs." 

She has a memnos for surgery. She does not mention it. She wants to cut him with it but then he would know she has it and she doesn't know if these things die like humans do. And she might never be able to move again. 

She keeps her face as blank as possible.

"Huh. Maybe I'll have you do a garden, that might be nice. What sorts of things do you like, this doesn't have to be all bad." Smile?

"I like to not be enslaved. I would like for you to send me home. I would like for you to look me in the eye and honestly tell me that I deserve to be your thrall. But none of those are going to happen, are they?" 

(Please, please, let the nudge work -) 

Nope. "It's not about deserving anything - oh, and it's 'vassal' - this is just how it works here."

"... Okay. Can I at least have my own garden?" 

(Be the scared little girl. The more resources she has, the better.)

"Sure, why not. I'll have Promise forage you some seeds - Promise is my other vassal."

YES OF COURSE YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO IS BEING ENSLAVED.

"I hope she's nice." 

"Sure she is. Do try to get along with her." Smile.

"I will." 

(She was already going to try, but now she has literally no other choice. 

She is going to need time to come up with something sufficiently horrible to do to this... person.)

"Of course you will. Are you actually not hungry - it doesn't matter any more -"