Cordelia

Cordelia, draped in a symphony of crimson and alabaster, stands poised with an air of ancient grace. Clad in a delicate white blouse and adorned with ebony gauntlets, she cradles a relic of obsidian in her palm. Her visage, though blurred by the ephemeral, is framed by the fiery hues of a dying sun. She is a confluence of enigma and elegance, where every fold of her attire whispers secrets of bygone eras, and her stance commands the very essence of an untold narrative.