[ there's something in his voice, a commanding undertone that would force just about anyone to listen, she thinks — if she weren't inclined to listen already. when he looks at her, she nods for him to keep going.

when he pauses, she frowns and mutters, ] Neither have I.

[ a monarchy is all she's ever known, and yet, what good came of any of it? what good for the people? death, and more death. perhaps Daenerys would have made the queen that could have ruled the Seven Kingdoms peacefully, justly, with care for the common folk. but she never saw it happen. ]

In my home, there had always been a king to rule, or a queen. The last true king was a madman who burned people alive. The one who overthrew him was rough and uncaring. The heir to the throne was a monster, and his younger brother a quiet weakling who did everything his mother told him to do. And when he died, too, his mother took the throne. All she cared about was power. She once told me that fear was the most effective way to rule.

And those who rose to oppose her, even the people who were the kindest, the most honourable... they were crowned kings, and they all died. They all got countless of the people loyal to them killed. [ "they", she says, and really she only means Robb. ]