Silently, he stared at her, not surprised even though he was certainly unhappy with her. Her words, her face, her just about everything really. He wondered for a moment if he should just hit her like a child that was starting to act out of line. Maybe she would've responded to that a lot better than a threat. However, for whatever reason, he kept himself from doing so.
Without any warning, he just grabbed one of her wrists and dragged her over to the table he had in the room. If she wanted him to open the package, then fine. He certainly needed her to leave. He ripped the package from her hand, tore it open as best he could, and then held it upside down to dump the contents on the table. What clanked against the surface, though, wasn't exactly something he had been expecting. He made a wordless sound of confusion, dropping the packaging to the floor and lifting the two items. A knife and a letter.
Just a knife and a letter. No. Better than that. A knife and something of a permission slip. His eyes skimmed over what was written twice just to be sure it said what it really did. Part of him immediately thought about dropping the whole thing just to spite his uncle after he had been laughed off earlier that week, because he knew that Mobius was much too amused. But he laughed himself at that moment. Maybe it was amusing.
"Well, this couldn't be more convenient. Mabelle, tell me, how long have you been living with my uncle? Two weeks? Three weeks?" Michel asked, still looking at the letter rather than her.