There is some fabric under the sword she pulls out; he gives it a tug, and it turns out to be a linen shirt. A few holes here and there, but he sets it aside. It may be useful for carrying whatever else is in the chest.

He glances at her as she swings the sword about. “You want to use that? It probably isn’t very sharp.”

Back to the chest. The next thing is velvet, a quantity, with something rattling in it. The velvet proves to be a mantle, dark red, smelling of salt water and time in a chest, but the rattling is a necklace — a triple strand of pearls that slips out of the fabric to land in the sand before he catches it up to examine it. Costly.

Dany is all the colors of a pearl: it should be hers.

“Come here, I’ve found something for you.”