A storm had raged above Dragonstone the night before, one like the storm that gave Daenerys her name, and in the morning the men had found Rhaenys washed ashore, along with the wreckage of a small rowboat. She was dressed plainly, with no signs of her station or House; the only hint to her identity, apart from her predominantly Dornish features, was a dagger tucked into her belt, though who was to say she hadn't stolen it?

No one dared to approach her at first, fearing that she was some sort of bad omen. It wasn't the first time for strange things to happen on the isle of dragons, after all.

Then she regained consciousness, coughing out water and curling up into a ball on her side.