Small solid black crown tattoo on the side ribs of a woman with long blonde hair, seated in patterned shorts.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small crown tattoo on the side ribs

Ribs · Black and grey · Photo

A woman with long blonde hair is seen from behind and to the side, seated on a grey carpeted floor in patterned black and white shorts. A small, simple black crown tattoo sits on the side of her ribcage, shown as a solid silhouette with no visible shading. The ink is the only colour in the frame, and the composition is a close, low-angle view of the torso and hip.

Ribs Crown

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

In the lean winter after the mint at Carrow shut its doors, King Aldous of Ambry sent for Teodor the tinsmith and asked for a crown small enough to carry in a pocket. The treasury had nothing left but black iron and a debt to the bakers. Teodor hammered the sheet flat, cut five points by candlelight, and polished it until it shone like wet slate. It weighed less than a wren.

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When the king saw it he laughed, then stopped laughing, because the crown had no gold to be proud of and nothing to hide behind. He ordered it thrown on the bonfire for the feast. Teodor's daughter Ines, nine years old and quick with her elbows, lifted it from the ash bucket while the guards were busy with the wine. She ran it down to the river and kept it inside her coat, where it knocked against her at every step.

The kingdom forgot its king, then forgot its own name. Ines grew into a ferrywoman who never let a fare pay in coin they did not own. When the bridge at Ambry gave way in the spring floods, she rowed the drowned out of the current until her arms would not lift the oars, and the people she pulled from the water said she always seemed to carry something heavier than she looked.

When she died the ferry stayed tied up for a week. Her neighbours found nothing of value in her box except a handkerchief knotted around a black iron crown, dull with handling and bright only where a thumb had worn it. They argued over who should keep it. In the end they rowed it out to the middle of the river and let the current take it, which seemed the only fitting ending for a crown nobody had ever been allowed to wear.