Heaven Sent

The crystal palace was bustling with life. Though the sky was dull and grey, the snow had melted away and made the journey to the venue, historic yet brand new, less treacherous.

Blaire stood, shadowing Ciel, Sebastian, Soma and her fellow servants. She wore a vibrant green gown of silk and lace, accentuated by a bustle that splayed out at the back. Mey had curled Blaire's hair - with two hinged pieces of iron which had been heated over an open flame - and tied back into a bun, granting her a marked contrast to her usual maid attire. Yet, the finery failed to lift her spirits, especially after spending the trip perched on the edge of the crammed carriage seat, amidst the ceaseless chatter of the other servants.

"I have certain matters I must attend to, please excuse me," Sebastian announced, his gaze latching onto Blaire's and his eyes narrowing. His stern instructions from this morning rang clear in her head.

"Remain within the premises. Always be within sight of at least one other servant. Is that understood?"

She returned his gaze with a nod, a silent acquiescence before he finally turned to leave.

A chorus of farewells from Finnie and Bard echoed through the air as Soma caught sight of Mina, calling out to her and disappearing into the throng, leaving Blaire with Ciel and the rest of the servants. She exhaled. Sebastian's piercing gaze had scarcely strayed from her all morning.

"So, whoever wins, the queen grants them the royal warrant?" Finnie queried, turning to Ciel.

"Not exactly." Ciel started. "Whichever product Her Majesty favors will get the privilege of supplying the royal household with their product. If their service remains to a high enough standard, then the company may apply for a royal warrant after five years."

"So, if Sebastian wins, what's in it for you?"

"Our product will bear the royal arms, -"

"So basically, it's just a load of ego tickling then." Mumbled Blaire.

"Pardon?" Ciel turned to her.

"Nothing,"

Ciel continued his explanation of royal warrants to Finnie, who was listing intently. Bard and Mey were bickering about what made a good curry. Blaire found herself zoning out, her gaze drifting over the sea of faces. Being inside all of the time, it was surprisingly easy to forget that she was in the Victorian era. It felt as though the past was confined to a small bubble which extended around the radius of Ciel's house and if she travelled far enough, she could reach her own time again. And yet here she was, surrounded by long dresses, top hats, horses and slang she didn't recognize. Even if she walked all the way to Scotland, she would still be in the Victorian era. If she were to travel to Egypt or the Arctic, she would still be in 1890.

Blaire caught a glance of a peculiar looking woman hurrying through the crowd. She was a maid, and must have been albino given her shockingly white hair. It was as pure as angels' wings.

Blaire did a double take. Was that-?

Blaire's gaze clung to the woman that she now recognized as Angela, subtly tracing her movements through the thrumming crowd. A lilac bonnet shrouded Angela's face, its unique hue standing out in this period. An awful feeling of urgency twisted in her stomach. She had completely forgotten about the impending disaster. The angel was going to taint the food, inciting an uncontrollable frenzy among the guests. Should she alert Ciel? Should she run and hide until it was all over with?

The image of Sebastian nonchalantly disarming someone with a curry bun popped into her mind and she smiled. Then she grimaced. Things went wrong when the Queen arrived. There was no sign of Her Majesty yet. She still had time.

Ciel was deep in his explanation of royal warrants at this point, apparently having a penchant for anything relating to the royal family, because she had never seen him so eagerly talk to anyone about anything. Mey and Bard's argument was getting quite heated.

"Uh, guys? Mey? Ciel?" She tried, but each of them was too engrossed in their own conversations.

Angela was getting away. She felt immensely sick. Would she be given into bigger trouble for disregarding Sebastian's orders or for failing to utilize her "psychic powers" when it desperately mattered? Wasn't that the entire point of her being kept with Ciel and Sebastian in the first place? What would be done to her if she got it wrong? Would Sebastian think that she was withholding something if she didn't try and prevent the angel from her hypnotic onslaught – or whatever it was that she did? She swallowed thickly, imagining what Sebastian would do to her. She thought of his blood red eyes and his cruel, jagged, too-wide grin looming over her. She thought of him drowning her. She thought of him pushing her to the ground and ripping her clothes. She thought of him pouring boiling water over her. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest like a call to war.

Bracing herself and summoning her courage, Blaire darted across the floor, keeping her eyes on the lilac hood as she made her way through the sea of people. She had to break into a light jog to catch up with the angel, nearly tripping on her dress and struggling to manage the weight of all of her garments. "Angela!"

At the call of her name, Angela turned, revealing her face for the first time. She was unnaturally perfect, not unlike Sebastian. Her face was ethereal in essence, with a narrow jaw, button nose and slightly wide-set eyes, which widened. Her nostrils flared when Blaire approached, coming to a still in front of her.

"Forgive my rudeness, but do I know you?" Even her voice was perfect, sounding pleasant and calm, a biting contrast to Blaire's frantic heaving.

Blaire paused. Admittedly, she hadn't thought this far ahead. "I know what you're about to do. You're going to… going to…" What exactly was Angela going to do?

"Going to…?" Angela narrowed violet her eyes.

"P-poison everyone…" Blaire floundered. She had no idea what she expected to happen. What could she even do, ask Angela not to do it? Give her a tap on the wrist and a mean look? She was acutely aware of the cold clamminess of her hands and the dryness at the back of her throat.

Angela laughed. "Oh my. Where, pray tell, did you hear this?" A slither of ice lurked beneath her thinly veiled amusement.

Blaire realized her mistake. She hadn't been thinking clearly. Why hadn't she remembered sooner? Why didn't she try harder to get Ciel's attention? Why did she have to come here at all? She had been so consumed with preventing the impending crisis that she hadn't considered the consequences of confronting an angel alone.

"I-I'm really sorry I bothered you; I must have gotten the wrong person." She made to scamper back to the others and tell them, but quickly found her wrist secured by a firm grip.

Angela leaned in, smiling as if she were conversing with an old friend. She spoke lowly so that only Blaire could hear. Her violet eyes pinned Blaire's with an unnerving intensity. The serenity on her face had vanished, replaced by a cold, calculated stare. "But my dear, I don't think you do. You reek of demon." She hissed. "Why are you here?"

"I- I'm, just a servant. I'm Ciel Phantomhive's servant."

Angela inhaled deeply; her eyes fluttering closed as if in bliss. "Now, there's a fascinating puzzle. You weren't present at Wellington, were you? You're a fresh face. And our dear Sebastian, or whatever name he currently fancies, does not simply employ anyone to dance attendance on that young lord. Who might you truly be?" Her eyes were half closed, and if the circumstances were different, they may have even appeared sultry in the way she was staring at Blaire.

"I'm just here to serve…" Blaire's thoughts were a whirl of confusion as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"You are playing a very dangerous game, human. I suggest you tread carefully-" Then she glanced behind Blaire, swiftly dropping her wrist before turning on her heel and disappearing back into the crowd.

Blaire stood still. Her stomach was churning and she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. What had she done? What did the angel think of her? What would Sebastian think now that she had confronted the angel herself? What would he do?

"Blaire? Why'd you wander off?" The sound of Mey's voice snapped her back to reality.

"Are you alright? Who was you talkin' to?" There was Bard.

Blaire turned to Mey and Bard. Should she tell them? They knew who Angela was, having met her in "Houndsville". But if the show was anything to go by, then they didn't know what she really was. Her being here probably wouldn't be suspicious or even significant to them. Ciel probably wouldn't know what she was either, but he would be able to call on Sebastian if needed. She smiled reassuringly. "Thought I recognized her. Was a mistake."

"Gave us a scare. Been asked to keep an eye on ya, was worried Sebastian'd 'it the roof."

"C'mon, I think the show's about to start." Mey lead them from the entrance into the grand hall, to the back of the crowd forming around the stage.

"Where is Ciel?" Asked Blaire.

"Front of the stage, of course. We don't stand with him." Said Finnie.

Blaire internally cursed Victorian values. How was she supposed to tell Ciel if she wasn't allowed to stand with him? She didn't have time to ponder her next course of action, because the event soon began. All of the contestants on stage were met with eager applause from the audience. Sebastian and Agni stood out like a pair of sore thumbs, all black and vivid green amongst a sea of white chef uniforms.

"Thank you all for waiting! I bid you welcome to the very first ever curry festival! A showcase of the best that London has to offer." The hosts booming voice quieted the eagerly awaiting specters.

Blaire anxiously awaited the arrival of the queen. However, as the minutes ticked by, each of the contestants being introduced and the cooking beginning, Victoria did not show her face. That, however, was the least of her concerns. If she whispered, would Sebastian hear her? But what could he do while on stage in front of onlookers? He had been ordered to win the competition; he was contractually obligated to complete Ciel's order. He would be of no help to her right now.

"Oh, what do I do? What do I do?" She whispered, glancing around frantically, as if the answer would appear in the air. As the contest began, the scent of different curries started to fill the grand hall. Blaire barley looked at the stage. Her stomach was a knot of anxiety, every nerve in her body on edge. Her eyes darted towards the spot where Angela was last seen, but the angel remained elusive. She suffered through the entire competition, watching as Sebastian presented his curry buns, Agni presented his lobster and selection of curries –and a third contender whose name evaded her. His curry, however, was infused with the potentially nefarious herbs given by Angela. The spectacle came to an end and the guests were given free range to try each of the curries served by the contestants. The other servants had immediately gone to have their share, leaving Blaire alone.

"Don't eat the other guy's curry!" Blaire called after them, but they didn't even turn around, her voice being drowned out by the noise of the bustling crowd. It was time. She needed to alert Ciel and Sebastian. That third contestant's curry needed to be removed from the tables, and fast.

She navigated her way through the crowd, her focus locked onto the familiar sight of Ciel's top hat. But her path was suddenly barred by the purple swath of Angela's gown. Startled, Blaire tried to sidestep the angel, only to find her wrist again clamped in an unyielding grip.

"I have had just about enough of biblical creatures man handling me!" She snapped, but when she met Angela's gaze, her rage completely evaporated like smoke in the wind.

"You want to calm down." Her eyes were half closed again in that sultry way, her voice was like velvet and had a purr like quality to it. Her violet eyes were glimmering. An inexplicable wave of calm descended over Blaire and it felt like something soft and gentle was brushing against her mind, like a caress soothing all of her worries away. What was she so would up about?

"I am calm." Said Blaire, staring into Angela's eyes. She was so beautiful. In that moment, Blaire would do anything for her.

"You want to come with me, don't you?" Said the angel.

"I want to come with you."

I was honestly horrified when I found out how the Victorians curled their hair. Apparently, many women burned their hair off using this method! (I'll just stick to getting mine permed…)

A curry festival to win a royal warrant is not, to my knowledge, something which actually occurred during the Victorian era. Or ever, for that matter. I looked really hard. Although many sources report that queen Victoria did enjoy curry.

There is actually a place in England called Houndsville. It's a dog park located in the rural town of Wellington, hence Angela's reference.