[For much of Daenerys' life, she had believed it all to be lies. Vicious and cruel ones meant to tear down her father's legacy, her house's legacy, and to delegitimize their rightful claim to the throne, and allow for the rotation of pretenders and wrongful heirs to continue. It leaves it difficult to completely stifle that rise of anger she feels deep within her at his question as it distinguishes itself only from the common phrase in the absence of a few words. Knowing the truth from Ser Barristan can only do much after years of believing otherwise, but it is enough that she merely stands a little straighter and lifts her chin as she bristles. What are, after all, the odds that this man knows her or her family? Were that true, he would address her properly to avoid any possible provocation.]

There is little need for that when the outcome is very nearly the same. We are either truly on the cusp of madness or others who do not see will come to believe we are. [She turns her gaze from him and back to the chair ahead of him.] But it would seem quite the coincidence for two people of previously sound minds to suddenly succumb to madness. [She looks at him again.] Wouldn't you agree? Or have I misjudged you?