[Chapter Size: 5758 Words]

This story is a fanfic with no intention of interacting with the original content or for profit. Except for some OCs, all characters and the universe belong to George R. R. Martin. Just a way to satisfy my creativity.

Jon Snow POV

North, Winterfell, 289 AC (After Conquest).

Slowly opening the lids of my eyes, I yawned and rubbed my hands on my face. I turned my head toward the open window and still saw no sign of dawn, so I thought to myself, ‘it would be just another day in my life as a bastard.’

“My life…” just thinking about it, I couldn’t deny the feeling of a hole within me. An eight-day-old boy by name, leading a cruel lifestyle to the point of reflecting his own existence in this way. My name is Jon Snow, and I live my life as the bastard of Winterfell, or at least I try, since the world is cruel to bastards. In Winterfell, if people ignored me like air, I would have a much better life, but that’s not the reality. I have a loving but absent father due to his work as the Warden of the North, the region with the largest expanse that can match the size of most kingdoms combined. On the other hand, the North is the poorest and least populous kingdom, due to its extreme environment. Farming is very challenging, and life has always been harsh, with cold, hunger, not to mention beasts, plagues, and bandits.

In winter, it’s much worse, as it can last for years, and its cruelty is tens of times worse than summer in the North. My father doesn’t have the luxury to spend as much time as he would like with me and my siblings, as he has to keep this kingdom running and maintain balance as much as possible. I grew up in Winterfell alongside my brother Robb; we were inseparable before, even with his mother doing everything to keep us apart, and even though I envied him for being a true Stark, I still loved him and did my best to help him. However, the reality of being a bastard speaks louder. After our father went to the Greyjoy Rebellion war two years ago and brought a Greyjoy boy, Theon Greyjoy, as his prisoner, Robb quickly bonded with the boy and distanced himself from me, as Greyjoy wasted no time insulting my bastard status. At first, he no longer wanted my company, which at the time made me cry whole nights, leading me to seek help and affection from an imaginary mother I didn’t even know existed.

I could go to father to cry, but that would only make Lady Catelyn hate me more and make my life even more of a hell, as she always does when I do something she doesn’t like. But with all this happening, soon my heart began to harden, as I lost one of the few pillars that would make me want to live a life in Winterfell, which was until then, my brother Robb, and his change of attitude didn’t help me much. A while after he distanced himself, he began treating me like someone beneath him, openly calling me a bastard and how my presence was an insult to him and his mother, just like the Greyjoy that motivated him to act this way. I had my proud skills with the blade, and in the last two years, I had to contain them, as I couldn’t afford to have more retaliation against me.

I’ve always been better than Robb with the sword, but if I were to defeat him in public, I’d have a week of hell behind me. Lady Catelyn would do everything to sow chaos upon me during that week in revenge, just because I showed any talent superior to her eldest son, which I personally found petty. So, I ended up letting Robb win; this always resulted in Lady Catelyn’s comments that a bastard will never beat a legitimate son. Of course, this didn’t happen when Father was around, and Robb followed his example, saying he’s always superior to my skills as a swordsman, something I learned to ignore over time.

My sister Sansa didn’t help much with this life a few years ago either. We were very close as children, used to play, Robb, Sansa, and I. Robb played the role of the villain, and I played the knight who would save Sansa, who was the princess in the tower. However, this didn’t continue a few years later. After learning about my bastard status and desperately wanting her mother’s approval, she began to distance herself and insult me. Soon, she avoided me everywhere and didn’t even look at me anymore. Her only words regarding me were how I was a stain on the family and how I shouldn’t even come near her, let alone talk to her. When Lady Catelyn witnessed such situations, I always saw her smiling.

But not everything was lost yet. I had two people I loved very much in this castle, and one of them was my younger sister, Arya. We loved each other like none of my other siblings. Arya, who was always scolded by Lady Catelyn for our closeness, even after the punishments, the little wolf had hot blood and never stopped seeing me or loving me as her brother. She didn’t care about who was the mother who gave birth to me, always saying that I was her brother and her family. Our father kept saying that she was unique among his children with wolf’s blood and claimed she was like his sister, Lyanna Stark, incarnate in appearance and behavior.

Although Arya was only 4 namedays old, she was my light in this hole for the past two years. She always escaped the septa who trained her in the arts of Southern ladies, arts that boiled down to dancing, sewing, singing, and listening to stories among ladies. However, the little wolf fiercely denied being a lady and always ran away from her lessons. I had to help a few times, always ending up playing hide and seek with Lady Catelyn in some corner of the castle. She always said she didn’t care about my bastard status and declared that I was her true brother, whom she loved the most. She even defended me in public to Lady Catelyn’s displeasure many times.

I had another brother, Bran. I loved him too, but the changes in Sansa and Robb hardened my heart, and I loved no one more than Arya. Still, I showed my affection for the child Bran whenever I had a chance, as Lady Catelyn didn’t like me around her 2-year-old.

My father was the second person I loved most in the castle, my guide whenever I had a chance. I always avoided talking about my situation in the castle since, as the Warden of the North, he always had other concerns for the realm instead of taking care of his bastard child, tormented by his own wife. Honestly, I was afraid that my complaints would make everything worse, so I suffered in silence. Of course, even though I loved him, I harbored some resentment towards him. He always treated me with respect and defended me from unjust things when he was around. He even gave harsh punishments to Robb and Greyjoy for offending me in public when Lord Stark witnessed the behavior of the two children, but that didn’t stop the insults behind the eyes of the Lord of Winterfell.

Over the years, the two heirs began to misbehave, and the consequences of these actions started falling on my shoulders, even though I had nothing to do with what happened. Blaming a bastard child for the actions of legitimate children was seen as something right for them, and I couldn’t even defend myself. Even if I did defend myself, I was always seen as a liar and accused of trying to incriminate the eldest son of the Starks. Making Lady Catelyn show that she’s right when she says: bastards are liars, treacherous, and covet everything from legitimate children, trying to take everything that is rightfully theirs.

I hold a grudge against my father because even though I am a bastard, I am still his son, and whether he likes it or not, he lets me live in this hole full of people who are almost all against my existence, refusing even to tell me anything about my own mother. Several times I thought about running away from Winterfell; I wanted to know who my mother was to have a direction to go when I left the castle, but my father always denied, and I could only cry and yearn for this supposed mother when I felt the cold in the nights that the North reminded us that we are at the top of the continent. Unlike my siblings, my room is not part of the hot springs heating system, the system underneath the castle. In fact, my room was worse than the servants’. Lady Catelyn made sure to remind me that I was not her son and that I was unwanted. My clothes were not always suitable for the cold; they were all worn and thin for a cold night, and if that wasn’t enough for the lady of Winterfell, she liked to torment me. She sometimes asked her southern servants to put “a little” salt in my food. So many times, my company during the nights was the cold, hunger, and tears of crying for my unknown mother.

Even as an 8-nameday-old child, I had already discovered how harsh life can be and wondered why I existed, if I had done something to deserve what I was going through? And last night was no different, just thinking about it, my face quickly revealed my frustration, and I clenched my fists while gritting my teeth. The past day, I was once again blamed for the actions of Robb and Theon.

Flashback –

The two boys stole from a servant who had just received his wages for the week, and the reason for a Northern lord’s son to steal coins along with the heir of Pyke? Simply the thrill of the danger of getting caught and being able to spend money at the brothel with Theon without Lord Stark suspecting. Theon, at 12 namedays, would be trying a prostitute for the first time, and Robb would be watching and having fun with his friend since he was just a child like me. However, their act ended with them being caught sneaking out with the coin purse.

The servant had already noticed the disappearance and desperately informed other servants and guards who, in turn, quickly went after the thief. After catching them, they were brought before Lady Catelyn, the Lady of Winterfell, who had to come up with a plan in this situation, as it would be a scandal for the heir of Winterfell to steal from a servant if that went public. It also didn’t help the other fact that the servant had already informed others in the castle about the disappearance of his coins. She needed a scapegoat now. She also couldn’t tolerate such behavior from Robb, but that she would deal with later.

So she ordered some servants to call me when I was cleaning the stable with Hodor. I went to her already imagining what it could be. As soon as I entered the room, I saw some southern guards and one of Catelyn’s servants. They were looking at me with complicated eyes. Lady Catelyn had a scowl, Theon had a mocking smile, and Robb had a gaze toward the ground, refusing to look me in the eyes. Realizing it would be another tough day, I said:

“Lady Catelyn, how may I assist you?” I asked with a neutral voice, knowing what could come of this.

Lady Catelyn, still scowling and with a voice full of anger and disgust, shouted:

“YOU, YOU BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU STEAL FROM A SERVANT IN THE CASTLE? IS THIS HOW YOU REPAY THE STARKS AFTER THEY’VE TAKEN YOU IN FOR SO MANY YEARS? YOU SHOULD FREEZE OUTSIDE THE CASTLE LIKE THE BASTARD YOU ARE!”

I went pale. She had always treated me poorly and insulted me, but accusing me of theft? And suggesting that I should freeze outside the castle?

“Lady Catelyn, I don’t understand.” I trembled and said, trying to hide my trembling voice and the tears that had been accumulating in my eyes. Once again, I realized the reality that the world placed on my shoulders. “Why are you accusing me of stealing from a servant?”

Without changing her expression and the disgust in her voice, she slammed her hand on the table, increasing the severity of her voice even more.

“You, wicked creature, stole from a servant who had just received his wages. There is evidence of your vile deeds, you will be punished as we must punish an evil child. Everyone in this room saw you stealing a short while ago, do you deny it, BASTARD?”

I could no longer deny my tears, who am I fooling? I already understood what was happening here, even me, a child with not even 10 namedays, knew the situation and why she was doing all this, ensuring that her son escapes punishment for the theft and ensuring that her servants are part of the act. I summoned all the dignity within me, as my father taught me about honor and fighting for what is right, and said, I would not run away this time.

“Lady Catelyn, I was in the stable with Hodor the whole afternoon; he can confirm that!” I exclaimed, staring into her eyes. My voice still came out trembling; tears were streaming down my face. I wasn’t angry; I couldn’t be; it was a lost situation, and the only feelings of a lonely child like me facing the situation were fear and despair, even in the face of my innocence. Lady Catelyn scoffed at me and said, “BASTARD! ARE YOU TELLING ME HODOR IS INVOLVED IN THIS TOO?” She shouted once again. This was a shock to me; how would this situation lead to the punishment of another innocent person? I knew Lady Catelyn never liked Old Nan; she despised Northern culture and had managed over the years to change most of Winterfell’s servants into her southern servants and followers of the Seven. Some of the few who remained had equal or greater respect for Old Nan than Lady Catelyn herself.

Catelyn hated that; she was angry at the older woman with all her Northern culture and fantasy-filled stories. Lady Catelyn claimed that it would corrupt her children and deny the true gods with fantasies of wild heretics. Of course, this was always discreet; the father would never agree with it. And she couldn’t do anything to the older woman; the father was very firm about Old Nan. Catelyn could never act against her; she had to merely tolerate her presence. And here I was, being her scapegoat to save her son’s reputation and creating an opening to act against Old Nan? Hodor was a man of few words, but he was truly honest, loyal, and kind. The only word that comes out of his mouth is a speech of emotions, and no one in the Seven Kingdoms has that ability. How could I let an innocent person suffer the same fate as me?

I was innocent, but it was a lost cause. No matter how much I shouted, I would never come out well from the situation and would only worsen my life. I was afraid of the direction this would take; my only alternative would be to cause as little damage as possible. I was looking at the ground as I thought about all this; how could I look at someone in this humiliating state? I was wondering if I would be a happier child outside of here, maybe in an orphanage in King’s Landing, or if my existence was really a curse and a disgrace to the world and the people close to me.

After all these years, with the words my father taught me about honor and doing what is right? The right thing would be to tell the truth, but that would only drive the situation even crazier, as everything was already against me, a bastard denying his own theft with 5 supposed witnesses? It was on this day that I discovered that honor and doing what is right sometimes mean nothing. I lifted my head and looked into her eyes; my gaze shone with a question for her, that I, a child, really deserved such a fate? I noticed that this unsettled her for a moment, but soon after, she returned to her current scowl. Seeing that this would lead to nothing, I finally opened my mouth and said, “No, Hodor is not involved in this, I lied, I stole the coins alone to buy sweets in Winter Town.” I said in the most neutral voice I could muster while the tears were already drying on my cheeks; I was even tired of crying.

The room fell silent. As the guards and the servant knew the truth, they had the decency to at least give me a more complicated and sympathetic look. Robb clenched his fists; he wouldn’t deny with bitterness in his throat. He would let his half-brother take the blame for him, even knowing that his father would never let him go unpunished and would be very disappointed in his heir. He trusted and let his mother handle the situation. Theon opened a wider smile after that. How could he not? He had the bastard to take the blame for his and Robb’s actions.

Lady Catelyn had an approving look on her face and said, “As I said, bastard, we have evidence. The whole room saw you stealing. Now leave. We will inform Lord Stark to see what we will do with you. Thefts usually involve a lost hand as punishment.” She said mockingly.

I was startled, as was everyone in the room. How could I not be? How could an adult woman insinuate that a child would lose his hand when she herself knows that I had nothing to do with the theft? And even Theon looked at me scared for a moment. I was so scared that I simply ran out of the room in desperation. I ran as fast as I could, passing everyone in the castle who wondered why the bastard had such behavior. My goal was to reach the only place that could make me feel better as quickly as possible: the sacred grove, the only place that calmed me down and a bit of the places in Winterfell that Lady Catelyn didn’t like to be.

Alone, I saw the heart tree with its carved face and red leaves everywhere. I walked up to it; I was sure that if I could see myself now, I would see a lifeless look on my face. I walked slowly, stopped crying a while ago, and keeping the same look, I knelt in front of the tree, and I kept staring at the face on the tree. I didn’t know how much time passed while I looked at that face, but it must have been hours because when I looked away for the first time, it was already night and cold, something I hadn’t noticed until then, and it was on a scale that I should already be in my room at this moment. I looked at the tree again and asked the same question that I had been asking myself mentally for hours since I arrived in front of the tree.

“Why do I have to go through all of this?” I murmured.

Flashback – end

Currently –

I started crying silently with my despair. I muttered to myself softly. “Mother… please save me from this world… please, mother… *SOB* save me, mother…”

This lasted for hours too because when I noticed the sun, it was already in a position indicating the end of the morning, and I still had a lifeless look in a corner, as I couldn’t; I was afraid of losing my hand because of Lady Catelyn’s threat. I snapped out of my current state when I heard a knock on the door. I got up to open it, but I was still trembling when I pulled the handle. I opened it, and I quickly realized it was Jory; he had a look of disappointment and disgust in his eyes. ‘So the rumor has already spread throughout the castle…’ I thought bitterly. Jory breaking the silence, said with a voice that matched his face.

“Jon Snow, Lord Stark is summoning you to his solar.” He said.

“Yes, Captain of the Guard, give me 1 minute,” I said and went to change into different clothes.

After changing, I went to the castle corridor accompanied by Jory. Me, an 8-year-old child, was now being treated like a criminal? I had a reputation for having bad behavior, as I was always blamed for the actions of the two heirs, and there were rumors and gossip that claimed bastards naturally had such behaviors. So, they never questioned my guilt, and Lady Catelyn made sure to have witnesses for the crimes never accuse the heirs when caught. But I noticed how the looks of the servants changed too; it wasn’t the same disdainful look as before; their eyes had anger, disgust, and satisfaction for me being escorted by a guard. I heard some comments and struggled not to cry for what I was hearing.

“See the bastard? Stealing at this age, already showing signs of a criminal, who would stop him from killing Stark children in the future?” Said a voice I didn’t recognize.

When I heard that, I could no longer feel the ground under my feet; I was furious and desperate. “How dare they say that I would hurt my siblings?” I shouted mentally. I would never hurt Robb, even after what he did. I despise him and pity the path he is taking along with Greyjoy, but I never saw myself wanting to hurt him or take Winterfell, much less kill him.

Lady Catelyn fears that one day I might take Winterfell from Robb, but I never wanted Winterfell, never thought of being a lord; being a lord should not be a privilege; it is a responsibility and a burden. I always had a dream of being a Stark and being recognized by the world as such; I had this dream since the moment I discovered what the word bastard meant, but never a lord, much less one at the expense of my brothers.

Doing my best to ignore all the looks along the way, I never wished so much that my room was closer to my father’s solar like now; then I could walk and pretend that the world wasn’t the world. Arriving, Jory entered the door first and then called me; when I entered and saw my father and Lady Catelyn beside him, both evaluating me, my father with pure anger on his face and his wife with a look of disgust, a minute passed, and no one said anything, but after a while, my father spoke, finally breaking the silence.

“Jory, escort Lady Stark to her room, please,” he said.

“Ned, I remember asking to stay.” She retorted, not happy with the turn of the situation. She probably wanted to make sure I was punished.

“Catelyn, this is about my son, now if you’ll excuse us…” he said, unable to hide all the disappointment in his voice for the situation when he said son.

“Ned, this has gone too far, I hope you act as I said.” She said angrily and started walking to the door, but didn’t fail to appreciate my existence in her way before leaving.

“AND YOU, YOU BASTARD, YOU BETTER NOT COME NEAR ARYA AND BRAN AGAIN, YOU ARE A THREAT TO OUR FAMILY!” She shouted.

I couldn’t think of anything and could only have an empty look; I was being mistreated like a dog all the time and from all directions, I wondered if there really was any god at this moment, I would like to ask if my existence could be better than causing disdain in the people around me, I knew I was innocent, but the psychological abuse of all this was affecting me.

“GET OUT OF HERE NOW, CATELYN! YOU NEVER DARE TO SPEAK LIKE THAT TO HIM IN MY PRESENCE!!” My father shouted with a tone I had never heard before; it startled me as well. I had seen him disappointed with me when Theon and Robb’s pranks fell on me as the scapegoat, but I never heard even half of the voice I heard now; my father was so angry that no one in the castle should have seen him in such a state before.

Catelyn’s face turned pale, and she looked frightened by my father’s anger. She began to cry and quickly left the room after Jory closed the door.

I looked at my father, who didn’t lower his voice; he began to say, “JON, WHAT HAPPENED? WHY DID YOU DECIDE TO STEAL FROM A SERVANT? I WANT YOU TO EXPLAIN BECAUSE I DID NOT RAISE A SON TO BE A THIEF!” He thundered, and I shrank.

I had always dreamed of being a proud Stark, recognized as someone who brought or brings pride to his brother and father, maybe his mother one day when I find out who she is. But the reality is different now; once upon a time, there was a boy who dreamed of being a Stark one day, but now, the same boy is being treated as the shame of the family, and now not because of his birth, but his actions.

I could only cry, not meeting my father’s gaze. How could I? I wanted to tell the truth to my father, wanted my father to know that he was not a disappointment, but how could he? The world was against him, nothing he said could help him. All the servants would testify against him, and he already doesn’t have a very good reputation in the castle. He could only say, “I-I’m sorry…*SOB*… Fa-father…*SOB*.” I was crying again; I couldn’t alleviate the situation or tell the truth, imagining how the bastard would be accusing the true son of being the real thief; he would be killed or thrown into a dungeon for the rest of his life, he feared just thinking about it. He could then try to minimize as much as possible to not put Hodor in the same situation as him.

“Dad…*SOB*… I stole the money to buy sweets, I’m sorry, I ran away from the stable when Hodor wasn’t looking, *SOB* Hodor has nothing to do with it, don’t blame him…*SOB* I’m leaving now, Dad… I won’t be a shame to your marriage anymore…*SOB* and a disappointment to your family… I’ll be going away…*SOB*”

—

**Eddard Stark POV**

**Winterfell, 289 AC, at the same moment.**

I was listening to those words, standing there pale in an instant. A child saying such words… how could someone like an 8-year-old survive outside the castle walls? The world wouldn’t be the same with such things, if that were possible… His face, which was angry until a short time ago, changed to an expression of concern and a bit of despair for Jon. How could it not? His beloved nephew/son did something he never imagined he could do. Jon wasn’t raised for this, and even though in the last two years, with the strange changes in behavior, being a bit more rebellious, getting into trouble, and me having to give him a few sermons once in a while, it should be normal. I found it normal due to the distance from his older cousin/brother. Even though I had talked to Robb to stay close to his brother, who was also a wolf in the pack, even though he had the status of a bastard, I never managed to get my eldest son to reconnect with Jon again.

Once in my attempts, Robb told me that Jon didn’t deserve to be by his side because he was a bastard. Of course, it was an unforgettable day for my heir, and I made sure the punishment was memorable. He never spoke about Jon’s status in front of me again after that, but he didn’t follow the advice to get close to his brother again. Thus, I could only sigh because of the situation.

And now I looked at the boy in front of me, wondering where I went wrong in his upbringing for him to behave the way he did, and now he’s saying he wants to leave. At this moment, I thought of my sister, the sister I loved, and now all that was left of her was this child, one that I loved as my own son too. I could even see Lyanna staring at me with disappointment behind the child, blaming me for letting it get to this point. I changed my tone from anger in my voice to one of concern and said, “Jon… I…” I said slowly, trying to find a solution to the situation, but young Jon interrupted me before I could finish.

“Father, before that, can you tell me about my mother?” Jon shot out without giving me a chance to speak. Jon was desperate, planning to leave and try to live somewhere else outside the castle. He didn’t want to be more of a nuisance than he already is within the castle and his family. With this situation, he couldn’t stay any longer; he needed to leave.

“*SOB* I need a direction in my life now, *SOB* I need to find her.” Jon continued to say as he cried and sobbed.

“Jon… I’m sorry…” I said carefully, while my heart was breaking with every word from the boy I had raised since he was a baby when I brought him to the castle more than 8 years ago.

“PLEASE, FATHER!” Jon cut his father off again, pleading, and looked into his eyes for the first time.

“I can’t, my son…” I finally spoke, full of pain, and Jon understood that. He once again asked a question with the most trembling voice as tears streamed down his eyes even more.

“Is she Dead…?” Jon asked me in the hope that I could deny it to him, that she was alive somewhere waiting for him. It hurt me too since I always avoided talking about her at all costs. The memories of Lya brought me a lot of pain.

“Yes, son… She died a long time ago, but she always said she loved you more than anything.” I choked on releasing those words, couldn’t even look at Jon as I spoke.

Then I realized the silence that settled in the room. I looked at Jon again, worried about his reaction after those words, and ended up seeing one of the most poignant things in my life… an 8-year-old boy, letting his tears flow silently from his eyes. But in his eyes, those gray eyes showed something I will never forget in life, a child with a lifeless gaze.

The boy fainted shortly after, falling to the floor. I stood there paralyzed for a while with the vision of a few moments ago, as I shouldn’t have, as the child, who was the son of his beloved sister, reached the point of desperation to show a look of how all the hope in his world collapsed. It was as if he no longer had the will to live. I could see Lya with all the anger in the world burning all of Winterfell for her son to reach this state.

‘What kind of life has he lived under my roof to come to this? This isn’t right! Something is going on here that doesn’t add up, and I have to figure it out,’ I exclaimed mentally. I ran to Jon on the floor shortly after snapping out of my stunned state. I had been rooted in place the moment the boy fell to the ground. When I reached his side, I lifted him to see if he had been hurt in the fall, but fortunately, his body was fine. However, what I feared now was his psychological state.

I didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the door suddenly swung open. It was Maester Luwin, who entered without knocking, his face indicating that something had happened. Ned wondered what had occurred, and the maester seemed a bit startled when he noticed Jon unconscious in Lord Stark’s arms. Then he spoke.

“Lord Stark, what happened to the boy? I came here because your wife fainted and was taken to the infirmary. She’s fine, however; she has something to tell you personally.” He finished with a solemn expression but then looked at Jon with concern. I picked up on this, and a thousand ideas of what had happened crossed my mind. Given Maester Luwin’s expression, it was certainly something that would make me happy.

What would make a man happy after his wife fainted to the point of going to the infirmary? A child! The news of his fifth child! But at the same time, I was concerned about Jon’s situation, and I looked at the boy for a moment. Even unconscious, his face showed the expressions of his feelings, and the voice echoing in his mind didn’t help much. “Promise me, Ned! Promise me you’ll protect him… NED, promise me… my son…”

I need to see what’s happening under my own roof later to understand what made this child fall into this state. Jon was filled with traumas that he would carry for the rest of his life, and I knew that just by looking at the child. If Jon behaved like a rebellious child to the point of stealing, I could understand, and it would make me furious, but I would make Jon learn from his mistakes and correct his behavior.

However, there were more things I needed to find out about Jon. I knew that what I saw today on the child’s face would haunt me for the rest of my life. I considered a radical solution to find out what was happening in my own home, even if I had to start executing people or someone to find out if someone was plotting against Jon. I knew my nephew wasn’t well-liked in the castle, but I never thought someone might be harming him. I handed the child to the maester and gave one last look at my boy, ‘I hope I’m right with the actions I’m going to take,’ I thought.

Maester Luwin noticed this but remained silent. A few moments later, I asked Luwin to take Jon to his room and went to the infirmary. I wanted to have the joy of hearing the news of his fifth child now.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep