Grace
My lips twitched. "No. I didn't get a chance with everything that's gone on today."
"Good," he said. "I'm glad my souvenir will be well-received."
My eyes widened. "You got her glitter paint?"
"How could I resist?" He asked, his smile indulgent. "I've never heard of art programs in werewolf schools. And I don't know much about werewolf school, but at least at home, they'll be of use, right?"
I blinked at him, suddenly struck with the realization that we really were from two different worlds, not just because he was a king or anything, but that lycan culture was so different than ours. I looked down at my plate. Would that cause problems later? He probably wouldn't believe me when I told him the truth.
"There aren't... art programs in school."
His eyes widened. "What?"
"I mean
