Honestly, Daenerys could barely understand all of it herself, let alone begin to explain it. She didn't often show her fear, she wasn't used to even thinking she ought to, but in this moment, she couldn't much think of an alternative, and that at least was fairly easy to read on her face.

"I think you wouldn't be happy trying to be one," she amended, diplomacy and truth rolled into one. "Too much putting on airs, I suspect. It wouldn't suit you."

It was because he was honest that she knew what he said meant something. What, she wasn't sure, but he was sincere, and she didn't know if that made it better or worse. Possibly both. "It wouldn't be me shining," she murmured before she could think better of it. There would, after all, be only so many things a dead king's daughter would be seen as good for, and none of them would be her own idea. "But thank you."