The corners of his lips had begun a fast descent, but at the mention of the Boltons, Ned's entire body freezes. Eyes the color of ice scan Jon's face - he doesn't expect him to lie, especially not after a reunion such as this, and yet - his mind stutters over this new piece of information. The Boltons? They'd had a long and ancient history of turmoil against each other, each house covered in the blood of each other's slain folk, but - betrayal? They'd bent the knee to the Starks a thousand years ago; how could they have gone against their word?

There's a coldness in Ned's eyes now, though it is not directed to the boy - no, the man - opposite him. If anything, he's keeping the ice creeping across his heart at bay, melted into water.

"We've much to talk about," he near growls, stiffening his posture some. "I've many things I should've told you long ago, too." There's still the chatter of Varys' birds, Littlefinger's children spies lurking about in the back of Ned's mind. A furtive glance to their surroundings before he brings his attention back. "Is there somewhere private to better discuss these matters?"