Not long ago, it was difficult to determine who wielded the greater global power: Was it Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of the Ashes, Mother of Dragons, or Beyoncé, Queen Bey, Mother of Blue Ivy, Rumi, and Sir? Emilia Clarke, the young and skillful actor who has played Daenerys over eight seasons of “Game of Thrones,” encountered just this question earlier this year. Clarke found herself at an Oscars after-party thrown by Beyoncé and Jay-Z, at the Chateau Marmont. The place was a shimmering aquarium of celebrity. Clarke sat at the bar with a couple of friends, slack-jawed and watching. She was, in fact, “pretty drunk”—“six glasses of champagne in,” she says—as Drake, Rihanna, J. Lo., A-Rod, Adele, and Leo swam by. Then Clarke spotted the hostess, and she was heading toward the bar, toward her.

“I see this vision, this angel, this incredible woman float towards me,” Clarke recalled the other day. “I can’t quite control myself. And Beyoncé says to me, ‘Oh, my goodness, it’s so wonderful to meet you. I think you’re brilliant.’ I just couldn’t handle it! I was on the verge of tears. I could see myself reflected in her eyes. I could see her go, ‘Oh, no. I misjudged this. This girl is crazy and I’m not going to have a real conversation with another celebrity. I’m having a conversation with a crazed fan who’s looking at me like a rabbit in the headlights.’ Which is exactly what I was. I said, ‘I’ve seen you live in concert and I think you’re amazing and wonderful! Wonderful!’ And all I wanted to scream was ‘Please, please still like me even though my character turns into a mass-killing dictator! Please still think that I’m representing women in a really fabulous way.’ ”

This was in February, before the start of the eighth and final season of “Game of Thrones.” Clarke could not tell even her closest and most trusted friends, who were nearby at the bar, why she had to hold back her innermost anxiety from Beyoncé. What Clarke knew was that, by the time Season 8 was over, her royal character would hardly face the final credits, much less the final judgment, in a posture of triumph: “I was just, like, Oh, my God, my absolute idol in life is saying that she likes me, and I know for a fact that by the end of this season she’s going to hate me.”

Read more Emily Nussbaum reflects on the “Game of Thrones” finale.

The moment of resolution has come at last, and it was not a happy one for Daenerys. Clarke first read the concluding scripts of “Game of Thrones” nearly two years ago. She, like everyone else associated with the show, was sworn to secrecy. When we reached her in London two days before the airing of the final episode, she seemed eager to clear up a variety of mysteries. We began with the mystery of the Starbucks cup, which someone had unaccountably left before Daenerys on the table of nobles, thus marring, or perhaps distinguishing, the episode called “The Last of the Starks.”

What was with the coffee cup? Is that your cup? Did you leave it there?

So, I’m just going to let you in on a little “Game of Thrones” trivia. We don’t drink Starbucks. So anyone who’s clucking around with a Starbucks cup is someone who is not a cast member. There’s no mocha-wocha-frappuccino anywhere.

Are you ratting out craft services?

Yes, I am. I’m ratting out craft services.

You don’t know what was in the cup, then? Is that what you’re trying to say?

It could’ve been anyone’s gin. Or it could have been some very fancy producer’s mochaccino.

When this scene was filmed, do you now remember, “Oh, my God, I remember that coffee cup sitting in front of me?”

No, I really don’t. You’ve got a lot of cast, and you’ve got two-hundred-odd extras in that room. But you know who I could actually quite happily blame? Did you notice some quite familiar-looking extras in that particular scene?

No, who? Ed Sheeran?

No. When Kit is having his kind of “Cheers,” and he’s downing all the booze, there are two people who look slightly like a Metallica tribute band, and they are our showrunners and writers, David Benioff and Mr. Dan Weiss. They are in the shot. Most people were laughing at their terrible handlebar mustaches rather than looking at anything that was on the table. When I was watching it, I was too busy laughing at their hilarious return to acting. So there are many excuses for the coffee cup for you. Pick whichever one you’d like.

Now that it’s all over, I want to get your reaction to the fate of your character, Daenerys. Are you disappointed? Were you surprised? Have you taken note of the feminist criticism of this?

I read these scripts coming on to two years ago now. When I did, I took a very long walk around London in a daze, not quite knowing how to digest the news. Now, finally, people are going, “Oh, now we understand why this season hit you hard.” I had no idea what to expect for this last season. I hoped for some juicy things to get into, as I always do for each season, but I didn’t see this coming. Throughout the show, there have been these glorious moments of Daenerys taking on a very strong role in a battle or in a decision to be made. There were these wonderful moments when she takes control, and it’s really liberating and beautiful. She frees people, she kills the baddies, and it feels good.

And, I must admit, I was sitting tentatively on that chair thinking, How long is this going to last? Everyone was saying, “Isn’t she great? She’s our savior, Mhysa.” It’s been beautiful and amazing, but I’ve been looking over my shoulder the entire time while everyone else gets a more human—for want of a better word—story line. They do good things. They do bad things. They do silly things. They do brilliant things. They fall in love. They break hearts. Daenerys has quite consistently had this road to salvation, and she’s been sitting atop a very safe mountain.

I remember the boys—our writers and showrunners—telling me that Daenerys’s arc is that of Lawrence of Arabia. I watched “Lawrence of Arabia,” and I was, like, “Great, cool. He’s brilliant. He survived, and it’s wonderful.” But then you remember how that movie ended, with Lawrence’s disintegration. I didn’t quite put those two things together. Or maybe I didn’t want to see it coming because I care about Daenerys too much.

Can you talk about that a little more, how Daenerys’s arc is like Lawrence of Arabia’s life?

Well, fundamentally, he’s brought in as a savior. He goes in and fights for the people, but then, ultimately, it’s a story about how power corrupts absolutely. You see power turn this man wild and mad. He can’t see anymore through the haze, the giddy highs, of being in charge. And that’s what Daenerys experiences. And yet I care for her so much. She’s been a part of me for so long that, in reading this script, I did what any actor is told to do and would do. You have to agree with your character. If you don’t agree with your character, then you shouldn’t take the job.

Read More Sarah Larson recaps the series finale of “Game of Thrones.”

I really just had to sit there and wrestle with how I could make good on what they had written. Because that’s her. They are the writers. They have made this woman, and I’m going to take on what it is and try and interpret that to my best ability. Now, when I showed the first glimmer of coldness, in Season 1, when Khal Drogo kills my brother, Viserys Targaryen—Jason [Momoa] kills Harry Lloyd . . .