The recollection of memory is enough to make Ned exhale an upset sigh, hand coming up to rub at his hair-speckled chin. He gives Jon a brief nod at his accurate retelling of history, but then hesitates at his question. He taps his fingers on his lips as he thinks of how best to explain.

"No, she wasn't. I'd - I'd spoken of a woman named Wylla, and often said she'd been your mother." He lets silence fill in between them. "She wasn't. She'd been a woman I'd met from Dorne, but - she was not your mother, nor -" He clears his throat, shifting in his chair, leaning forward towards Jon. "I've raised you as my own, and I've never thought of you as anything but my son. D'you hear me, Jon? You are my son as much as Robb is, but - I had no hand in creating you." He pauses, allowing Jon time to wrap his mind around the revelation. "Do you understand?"