Even knowing it was coming, it still didn't really prepare Mabelle to respond once Michel began ranting. He made it quite clear that he didn't want her anywhere his uncle, so she wasn't left with much of a defence, because interacting with his uncle was exactly what she did. There wasn't any misunderstanding to correct, even if the fault falling on her felt slightly unfair.
While she hadn't ever purposely sought Mobius out, she couldn't very well ignore him the few occasions their paths had crossed and he demanded her attention. Was there really any point in trying to reason with Michel over a subject he was so stubbornly irrational? It was easier to just take the blame than challenge him, than to make stupid excuses that he wouldn't care to hear. Sighing lightly, Mabelle rested her forehead against the surface of the table. "I know. I tried."
"If you don't want me to go. You can just say I'm sick. Or dead," she suggested, not really interested in going for anything but the free food anyway.