Daenerys knew the seven kingdoms of Westeros was her birthright. And she was willing to do whatever it takes to win what is rightfully hers. She’d played the game of thrones shrewdly, she’d gained an army conquered much of the east but still the Iron Throne eluded her, she was no closer to the prize than when she began.
It was in a conversation with Ser Barriston Selmy that she realized what she must do next.
"Even with an army and dragons, you can never hope to rule Westeros without the support of its strongest houses."
"I am the rightful heir to the throne, they will follow or suffer my wrath."
"What if there was a way to win their loyalty without bloodshed?"
Dany listened. “Go on.”
"They’ll need to see you’re a different kind of ruler. One who can be humble, one who’s open, honest, keeps nothing hidden from her subjects."
Dany considered this. “I’ll take this under advisement, thank you.”
She spent the night pondering it. How could she prove she had nothing to hide from those she sought to rule? Eventually she fell asleep without coming to an answer.
That night she dreamed of riding her dragon Drogon. She soared through the sky on his back feeling the wind on her bare skin, kept warm only by his fire. And when she woke, she knew what she had to do.
She was Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons, and nudist forevermore.