Ned's jaw tightens for a moment as his son's words come barrelling out like daggers, though he knows they're well-earned on his own end. There had been many nights, particularly when Jon was but a child, in which Ned had spent the dark hours lying away or walking about the Godswood in an attempt to find answers as to what he should do. He'd made a promise to his sister, he'd promised her as she took her final breaths and drenched him in the blood she'd lost from her body. And the words she'd spoken had been true; Ned knew as well as anyone what Robert would do, had he found out about Jon's true lineage.

So he'd ultimately decided to keep his promise, to keep the secret, to carry the burden and watch as his sister's child bore a weight no child should ever have to bear. He'd carried as much of it as he could, but he knew he couldn't shield the boy from everything. And, by the time he'd expressed a desire to join his uncle at The Wall, Ned knew too much time had passed for him to bring the topic up again. Parting ways on the King's Road was no time to tell Jon the truth.

"A boy might wield a sword better than a man, but his heart and mind will not yet be galvanized to withstand the truths of the world." Ned's voice isn't brusque, exactly, but it is lacking some of its familiar warmth. "It was not my secret to share."