Cyran whistled behind Ephyra while Myra clapped her hands together like an excited child. "Oh. My. Goddess. This is the first time I'm seeing you dressed like this and you look so beautiful." Her gaze skimmed over her body down to her foot, covered in stiletto heels then it went back up and stopped at her face. Suddenly, she took notice of her appearance. "Who helped you with your makeup? You look like you are in your mid-twenties but in a hot way! And your hair… I love how the messy bun is styled, who helped you with it?"
Ephyra laughed, "I did everything myself."
Malia gasped, clutching her chest as though Ephyra's revelation had physically struck her. "You did everything yourself? The makeup? The hair? The gown choice?" She spun dramatically to Orla. "Did you hear that? This woman is a walking masterpiece. She doesn't even need a team to look like this."
