Daenerys had dismissed her handmaids once she'd been dressed in a loose gown - the heat of the desert was too much for her to sleep at night. She had thought herself alone for the evening. She certainly didn't expect to see Jorah in her tent.

So when she turned, hearing the tent flaps open, Daenerys almost jumped, startled. She stared for a long while in disbelief, and for a moment she struggled to find words. His shirt still clung to his muscular form, open and leaving his chest revealed, glistening slightly with sweat.

"...no, not displeasing at all," she replied. "You did well, Ser Jorah. As always. As I expected."

What more could she say? She couldn't say that she had loved watching him move and the strength he exhibited. She couldn't give into her feelings.