Bailey Knight stood in the Lounge, straight as a Rapier, with the bearing of someone onstage.
Annan had seen a portrait of Madeleine Jenkins, and Rachel Flores had told him the two women had once been close friends... Looking at Bailey now, they seemed like opposites.
Madeleine Jenkins was elegant and richly dressed, fond of heavy makeup, accessories, and lavish gowns in bright colors. Bailey Knight's thin features gave her a cool, austere look. She cared little for appearances and dressed as plainly as a Servant.
One had betrayed the hometown that raised her; the other had chosen to stay.
Annan brought his attention back to the present and held out his hand. "Welcome, Lady Bailey Knight. Everyone's Singer is honored to have you."
"Your vision persuaded me." Bailey Knight looked at Annan's outstretched hand, realized it was some kind of greeting, and gently shook it.
"Art should be something more people can take part in, not a celebration for a select few."
"Then we agree."
Still, Annan had his doubts about whether Bailey Knight could compare with Madeleine Jenkins. After inviting her to sit, he glanced at Francois.
Fրանcois took the hint. "Lady Bailey Knight, it isn't that we doubt you. We're all curious: is your singing really as beautiful as Madeleine's?"
To everyone's astonishment, Bailey Knight shook her head.
"My voice isn't like Eileen's. She has a wide range. In a hall or grand chamber, she sounds like the Horn of the Gods. My voice is better suited to singing outdoors, in open spaces."
"Would you mind singing a little?"
Bailey Knight did not refuse. She sang a passage from an Opera.
Just as she had said, her voice was cooler, with a lower resonance. Even when she reached the high notes, it did not set hearts racing;