Two small black crown tattoos in a fine line style on the backs of two hands, one hand resting over the other, with pearl and chain bracelets on the wrist.

Small crown tattoos on the backs of two hands

Fine line · Hand · Black and grey · Photo

Two small crown designs are tattooed on the backs of two hands, one larger and one smaller. The crowns are drawn in thin black linework, with the larger one showing some shaded detail along its band and dotted points. The ink is black and grey, and the hands rest together on a white fabric background with pearl and chainmail bracelets and a jewelled ring visible.

Fine line Hand Crown Hand Bracelet Ring Pearl

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Old Maud Pellow kept the orchard wall at Coldharbour, and every spring she told the bees the same thing: the queen had gone up the lane with her crown in her apron pocket and would not be back until the wasps had given up. Nobody believed her, but nobody argued either, because the crown had vanished the week of the old king's funeral, and his sons had been squabbling over the gardens ever since.

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The younger son, Edric, came to the orchard gate one wet morning with a hazel stick and a bad temper. He wanted the crown, or whatever was left of it. Maud told him to sit on the wall and wait. She went into the shed and came back with a string of pearls that the dairymaids wore to church, and she dropped them into his hand. The crown, she said, had never been gold. The old king had it beaten into two thin tin bands so his daughters could wear it on their hands while they worked the beds, and when he died the sons fought over the metal and never once asked the daughters what they wanted.

Edric turned the pearls over and said nothing. Maud pointed at the lane with her chin. Down past the mill, two women were walking home with baskets on their arms, and the sun caught the little black crowns on their hands as they lifted them to wave at the carter.

Edric left the hazel stick leaning against the gate. By the time the lamps were lit along the lane, the bees had gone home and the pearls were in his coat, and he was still counting the days until he could go back and say he was sorry.