Daughter of a King script on a forearm
Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
A thin black script tattoo reads Daughter of a King across the forearm, with a slightly uneven, handwritten character to the lettering. The linework is fine and even, and the ink is solid black with no shading or colour. The text sits centrally on a plain skin background, with a tiled floor and a pair of beaded bracelets and a white strap visible below.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
You learn the ledger at the chandlery before you learn your letters properly. Your father keeps the wage book on the high stool by the stove, and every Friday he writes the names of the crew in a hand that loops and leans as if the pen is trying to get away from him. Yours is the last line, below the lobster men and the boy who mends the nets. Where the sum should go he writes one phrase, and you have never been allowed to read it aloud in front of the customers.
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The summer the Sallow Lass goes down off the Scar, nobody comes in to buy rope. Widow Penhallow brings a crab pot to be mended and sets it on the counter as if it might be a gift. You watch your father's hand shake over the page. Then he tears out the spoiled sheet, folds it into a boat, and floats it in the bucket by the door, and you understand the words were never for the men who work the harbour. They were always for you.
You take the pen that evening. Under the crew you write your own line in your own careless hand, and you leave the sum blank, because there was never a sum to give. Then you copy out the phrase you have finally learned to spell. Outside, the gulls work the tideline and the bucket water goes still. When you hand him the book, your father's chair creaks, and for once he does not look away from the page.
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