The Weave of Ice and Fire Part One: Blood and Truth
The words hung in the cold air of Ned Stark's solar like executioner's blades.
"Your mother was Lyanna Stark. Your father was Rhaegar Targaryen."
Jon felt the world tilt beneath his feet. Everything he'd known—every insult, every cautious look from Lady Catelyn, every moment he'd called himself a bastard—shattered like thin ice under a warhammer.
"I'm... I'm a Targaryen?" His voice came out strangled.
Ned—the man he'd called father—nodded slowly. His grey eyes carried years of hidden pain. "Your true name is Aegon Targaryen. Sixth of your name. I promised your mother I'd protect you. Robert would have killed you if he'd known."
Jon staggered backward. The room felt too small, the air too thick. "Why tell me now?"
"Because you're nearly a man grown. Because the secret has poisoned this family long enough. Because you deserve the truth."
