"Mn, I think I prefer that to souls." Explosions and flammable gas--what's not to like of that? They speak of power. Strength that none of them would ever be able to harness, as well as the ability to leave a lasting effect seen and felt through time itself. "It's how I would've preferred my legacy."

She takes another sip of wine, and it soon becomes clear that this is not her first glass. If she's to speak so freely of her ruling Westeros and her own demise...

"Or weave their fashions and ways into your own." Now she's looking at Claire. She'd heard, of course, that the woman was captured and held hostage as well. Dany's own tunic hides the fading bruises and marks from the bites, but she does not lean back in her chair. No, the wounds she'd inflicted upon herself were still healing. Ugly things.

She might've inquired about the chill in Olympia, but... "Do you enjoy the cold and the snow, Claire?"