Three Centuries of Captive Love

I am Sandra Lopez, Queen of the East Sea Dragon Palace, whose true form is that of a seven-colored phoenix. My husband, Timothy, is the lord of the East Sea, the Dragon King. He has once again taken as his wife the spouse of one of his subjects. This is not the first time. A few days ago, the wife of the Ocean Guard knelt before my palace, weeping and pleading for my mercy. I could only send her some miraculous elixirs and quietly arrange for her to retreat into seclusion in the West Sea. I have endured such aftershocks for three centuries. Today is different. Timothy has brought back his youthful love, a Siren of the Deep named Zoe. He entered my Sleeping Palace still clad in dragon scales, his tone an unquestionable command. "Sandra Lopez, Zoe is frail and restless throughout the night." I lifted my gaze to him; there was no warmth in his eyes for me, only pity for Zoe. "What do you intend?" I asked. "You are a Phoenix; your song can soothe the soul." From this night onward, you shall sing the Requiem outside her palace until she falls into a deep sleep." My song was originally meant only for the beloved. Yet I have no room to refuse. "Very well." I paused, then added, "I want a handful of your Dragonfire." Timothy frowned, as if finding my request strange, but still waved his hand to summon a ball of crimson Dragonfire and tossed it to me. "Do not play tricks," he warned. I caught the Dragonfire, concealed it within the Jade Pendant I carried, and softly replied, "Yes." That very night, I stood before Zoe's Grand Palace and sang a Requiem. The sea breeze, heavy with the salt of the ocean, blew fiercely, causing my phoenix robe to rustle. From within the hall came Zoe's delicate voice, laden with deliberate pride. "Timothy, Her Majesty the Queen's singing is truly enchanting, surpassing even the songs of the merfolk beneath the sea." "If you enjoy it, let her continue singing for several more days." Timothy's voice was gentle enough to drip with water. I closed my eyes, allowing the song to drift into the night sky. The ache in my heart was sharper than the biting sea wind. Such days endured for ten full days. On the eleventh day, Timothy returned once more. "Zoe desires a Phoenix Feather Skirt; your phoenix feathers are the most resplendent." He looked at me, his gaze resting upon the Phoenix Feather behind me. The Phoenix Feather is the very essence of the Phoenix; the pain of plucking one rivals that of tearing out one's own heart. "How many shall be plucked?" I asked, my voice as calm as a motionless pond. "The more, the better, to weave the most splendid skirt." I turned away from him and closed my eyes. "Very well." I said, "Give me another handful of Dragonfire." This time, Timothy did not hesitate; he threw the Dragonfire directly to me. I summoned a dagger and, enduring searing pain, plucked the Phoenix Feathers from my back one by one. Blood dripped down the feathers, falling onto the cold ground and blooming into clusters of dark red flowers. Timothy did not glance at me; he merely took up the Phoenix Feather I had plucked and turned away. After he left, I sank weakly to the ground, gasping for breath.