Despite Hera’s efforts to ignore Minerva, Minerva seed determined to provoke her, even going so far as to approach Hera and loudly deliver her snide remarks. Alice, who was attempting to pull Minerva away, looked at Hera with a helpless expression.
"Minerva, it’s not our place to comnt on who she’s with. Let’s just go," Alice said, trying to pull Minerva to the other side of the room. However, her comnt subtly implied that Hera was a promiscuous woman who was always with different n.
"Alice. Sigh." Minerva sighed, still wanting to say more, but Alice was insistent on pulling her away, her face filled with worry, almost on the verge of tears. "Alright, we’ll go," As soon as Minerva relented, Alice bead and smiled at her. The two then strode back to the other side of the room. The other socialites and the top artist, who was there for a scheduled styling, had overheard the exchange and likely recognized Hera from the morning news, understanding the implication of Alice’s words.
They all looked at Hera and the man she was with, their gazes filled with mockery and judgnt. Even though Hera wanted to explain, she couldn’t possibly go up to each of them individually to clarify the situation, could she?
If she tried to explain right then and there, it would only make her look guilty and flustered. This was likely what the two intended—to tornt her silently and leave her with no way to defend herself.
"Senior, who are they?" Logan asked. Though timid, he was visibly angry on Hera’s behalf. He couldn’t understand why those won disliked Hera when she was so nice to everyone.
If Hera could hear his thoughts, she would definitely laugh out loud. She could be nice to everyone, but not everyone deserved it. So people, like Minerva and Alice, seed to be born just to annoy others. She didn’t mind being rude to those who were rude to her first.
"It’s alright, Logan," Hera said, maintaining her smile. She wasn’t affected by the silent mockery or judgnt. She upheld her graceful and elegant deanor like the highborn lady she was. Seeing her like this made the gossipers, especially the nearby socialites, feel sowhat like shrews in comparison.
In their circle, what you hear isn’t always what it seems, as many things happen behind closed doors. They were well aware of this. Once they thought it through, they stopped paying attention to the gossip and entertainnt ant to garner clout and manipulate the easily swayed masses.
Especially since so of them knew the people in the picture. Although they were dying of envy, they knew better than to get on those people’s bad side, and they didn’t know Hera’s real connection to them.
But there were also so who were annoyed, believing Hera acted high and mighty just because she had many backers, thinking she was promiscuous and skilled at manipulation.
Not long after, a stylist ca running excitedly from who knows where. Spotting Hera, she squealed, "Hera, baby!" She exclaid upon seeing Hera quietly seated with a large man beside her.
Hera lifted her head to look at the person who called her na. She was unfamiliar with the voice, and her brow subconsciously furrowed. As she t the person’s eyes, gears began to turn in her head, and like a light bulb switching on, she seed to rember the person before her.
"Hey! That hurts, you know," she said with a playful hurt expression. "To think that you forgot one of the people who dolled you up for the Charity Auction 2 weeks ago!" Despite her playing hurt, she strode over to Hera without a hint of offense.
All eyes turned to the loud person whose voice bood with vigor and enthusiasm, almost a pain in their ears. But when they saw her, they were stunned.
"What is the owner doing here?" one of the top artists whispered to the person next to her.
"Isn’t that one of Britney Styles’ disciples? The owner of this place?" another murmured.
Listening to their whispers, Hera realized that the people who had styled her were all significant figures, yet they remained humble and friendly. She recalled Athena ntioning that Britney Styles, her mother Sasha’s chief stylist at ’Closet Luxe,’ was internationally acclaid. If the person before her was one of her disciples, they too likely enjoyed international recognition.
Hera maintained her composure and smiled at the person before her. "Sorry, I haven’t thanked you for the great job you did that day. You all bolted pretty fast," she chuckled, recalling how quickly they had all left, especially Britney.
"Don’t ntion it, my dear. We all thoroughly enjoyed the work and were imnsely satisfied with the outco," she replied warmly. Her excitent grew as she recalled the day when her ntor and fellow disciples were struck with inspiration, rushing ho to interpret their ideas into new styles. They even designed a few additional dresses that complented the hair and makeup styles perfectly.
"Anyway, I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself properly to you, my muse. My na is Sandra Stan, Britney Styles’ first disciple—I’ve been with her since I was about 15 or 16 years old," she said with a smile, reflecting briefly on her mories.
"Hello again, Sandra. I didn’t realize this was your store. My manager booked an appointnt here for my new junior for styling," Hera said, briefly recognizing Sandra before getting to the point.
"I know. When I found out Betty was your manager, I imdiately accepted the appointnt."
"You an?" Hera asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sandra pointed at herself, nodding with a wide grin. "I’m your stylist for today. , myself, and I."
"Oh!" Hera paused for a mont, then broke into a sweet smile in front of Sandra. Behind Sandra stood Minerva and Alice, their faces flushed with anger. When Hera noticed them, she couldn’t help but smile even sweeter, which only seed to taunt Minerva and Alice further.
"Senior! I’m done!" A man’s voice snapped Minerva and Alice back to attention. They turned to see him standing outside the styling room, accompanied by a stylist who appeared pleased with her work.
"Your junior was naturally handso to begin with, so I only had to tweak a few minor details," the stylist said, placing her hands on the young man’s shoulders and giving them a proud tap. Her joy dimd slightly upon noticing their usually busy owner standing nearby, engaged in conversation with soone else.
"Owner! You ca?" Her voice was uncertain as she approached Sandra and the people with her. "These are...?"
"Oh, there you are! These are my special guests," Sandra exclaid, pulling Hera close and resting a hand on her shoulder. "And this right here is my muse!" She said proudly.
"Oh, the girl who inspired you?" The stylist’s eyes widened with awe and a touch of reverence. "To think I’d see the goddess who inspired your work in the flesh!" She studied Hera from head to toe with admiration, nodding to herself in understanding. She now comprehended why their owner had been so inspired after styling Hera that ti—everything seed to complent her effortlessly. Hera exuded an aura that set her apart from ordinary people.
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