"…I'll answer all your questions."

"And in return," Asgore continued, "you must answer mine."

The witch let out a huff of air.

"Fine."

Chapter 29

Questions

The witch sat in her spacious, new room and admired the décor. It was the largest bedroom she had ever seen, at least in her recent memory. The floor was padded in a baby soft carpet, three large windows looked out on a beautiful blue lake. The bed was substantial, longer than she was tall by an incredible amount, and wider than four girl's her size. She hadn't sat on it, although it looked more than comfortable. She was waiting instead. Waiting for the King to come fetch her at his leisure. He showed her this room, mumbled a command not to leave, and then locked himself in a room with Undyne, presumably to ask how in the world Gaster had managed to get in.

The problem with Wicca was that she was impatient. And she needed a shower.

Getting off the floor, the witch wandered out into the Palace's elegant halls and managed to find herself outside of the King's own bedroom. Grinning, Wicca let herself in. The room was grand, but she hardly paid it any attention, because the bathroom door stood open and inside a claw-tooth, marble bath tub sat.

The girl made pleasant noises and rushed to turn the hot water on. She honestly didn't know the last time she took a bath. She wasn't sure if Little Red spraying her down with a power wash tool counted. Wicca shoved off her clothes, mindful of the gash in her leg, and climbed in. The water burned against her skin, but the scalding heat melted all the dirt, muck, and grime that she had collected during her vacation in another world. Majority of it wasn't visible, it had been ground into her skin from the daily torture she had received. Physical and nonphysical scars dotted her body and mind.

The witch turned at the sound of a door closing. The King was back.

Wiping herself off as quietly as she could with a towel, Wicca slipped on one of the King's various bath robes. She chose the fluffiest one, and the oversized garment felt like a cloud. Silently, the girl opened the door from the bathroom and snuck out. The King seemed to be in what Wicca assumed was a walk-in closet.

She crossed to his bed and laid down across it, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long. The King appeared, sans shirt, and stopped upon seeing her.

"Wicca?" His tone held a deep warning.

"I have a lot of questions that can't wait." She answered.

The King sighed wearily and held up a hand, "I'm ready."

"Why was Gaster here."

"If he was here for you or me, I do not know."

The witch nodded, not satisfied with the answer, but knowing that she wouldn't get a better one.

The King raised an eyebrow and asked, "How does Gaster know you?"

"He chased me through the woods."

"You've said that before."

"Then you shouldn't have asked. My turn." The witch crossed her arms, "How do you know Gaster."

"He used to work for me."

Wicca squinted her eyes as something tickled at the back of her head. She remembered hearing something in Grillby's that sent a red flag. She shook her head, she would figure it out later.

"How did you get down here."

The girl gritted her teeth. If he had said 'How did you get here' then she would have been able to give him some flippant reply. His question also denied her the possibility of answering with her usual "I'm a witch" spiel. She decided to go with cryptic instead, "I was already here."

The King gave her a stern look.

"I lived in a small cottage in the woods outside of Snowdin but one day I woke up in some ruins."

"Did you come across a house?" The King didn't raise his voice, but the alarm and fear was easy to hear.

Wicca looked at him unsteady, "Yes."

"Did you go in?"

"Yes."

"What did you see?" His voice was strained now, and he was clearly struggling to keep himself under control.

Wicca cleared her throat, the questioning had gotten away from her. She had let it get away from her.

"Answer mine first."

The King glared, "Fine."

"Why did you replace the paintings."

Asgore's face twitched and he said nothing for many minutes, "I couldn't look at them anymore."

"What were they."

"They were portraits of my family years ago," The King looked at Wicca with bloodshot eyes, "and Gaster took them from me."