Traditional style tattoo of three red roses with green leaves and bold black outlines across the upper chest.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Three red roses across the chest

Traditional · Chest · Colour · Photo

Three red roses with green leaves sit side by side across the upper chest, with the central rose larger than the two flanking blooms. The linework is bold and dark, and the petals are shaded with darker red at the edges and lighter red in the centre. The image is a close crop of the chest and collarbone area, with a yellow top and grey cardigan framing the design.

Traditional Botanical Chest Rose Leaves Flower

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dearest Maud, the frost came early to the Winterhollow gardens this year, and old Piet Hanselin swore on his mother's grave that the three Crown roses would not survive it. I have never trusted a man who swears on graves about flowers. Still, I went down at dawn with a lantern and found the central bush bowed to the ground, its three great blooms heavy with rime, and I thought of you.

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You will remember the deep-red rose, the one with the black heart-line that the court painters copied onto every wedding banner since the old queen. Piet says the shade only comes up when the soil has been cut with bone meal and left to rest a full year. He did not tell me that until I had already cut the three best stems and carried them to the chapel. The flanking blooms were smaller, their leaves darker than those in the south garden, and I set them in the Captain's brass jug because the Captain never asks where anything comes from.

The chapel bell rang at noon for the treaty signing. Sir Oren read the terms aloud with one finger under each line, and when he reached the clause about the eastern wells the whole hall went quiet, because the petals had dropped from the jug onto the table, one each, red as sealing wax. Nobody had the nerve to brush them away.

I am writing this in the window seat with the stems in cold water on the sill, and I have decided I will not tell Piet. Let him think the frost took them. Come home before the thaw, and bring the ink you promised, the good black kind that does not run in the rain.