A book with many pictures. As if he wasn't already offended, he made a face until she clarified that it was for her rather than for him. That made more sense to him at least. She was a talented artist and perhaps that suited her more than just writing everything out.
It was easy to call the desire to read any sort of story childish. Not even children in his class got to enjoy them often though. He hesitated to admit that he really wouldn't mind reading one. However, at the same time it seemed even more silly to avoid the question. He just gave her a vague nod, his eyes focused on her hair still. "I've had enough politics and philosophy for at least two lifetimes. Something like that would be preferable." Curiously, his head tilted to the other side, carefully digging away at what seemed to be the last really terrible place in her hair. The rest of the knots would come out easily enough. "All I know of ancient lands are what I've seen in art. And that's not a lot."
Pausing for a moment, Michel nodded in a vague direction. "I still have some paint."