"All right," Robb allowed, glad enough that she was open to a bit more practical experience, even if it seemed a flimsy bulwark against what she might face out in the wilderness of this strange place. He stepped quickly to his room and retrieved one of the blades he had there. It wasn't what he might have liked to give her, nothing so fine as what might have come from Mikken's forge, but it was sturdy and had been well-sharpened.

"Here," he said, returning, a leather belt in hand as well. "I've no sheath, but you can carry it closely on your belt," he added, and looped the leather firmly around Margaery's waist. "There are cuts here, do you see?" He pointed to a place where he'd cut two thin, parallel lines in the leather. "It should hold the blade well enough, but have a care it's secure."