Mater dolorosa

The novel opens on a bright yet distant summer when the ducal couple of Eleda set sail for Palermo, leaving their only daughter and future son‑in‑law behind. Maria, the duchess, is described as a statuesque, blonde beauty whose polished exterior hides an almost imperceptible chill. Though scarcely moved by the world’s splendors, she clings to a private sorrow that reveals itself in trembling hands and a hollow gaze as the boat carrying her loved ones disappears over the harbor’s edge.

Onboard the Newton, the duke tries to mask the grief with polite conversation, offering warmth through gestures—handshakes, a shared blanket, a cigarette—while the ship cuts through the Ligurian coast. The captain’s occasional remarks break the formal atmosphere, and a modest dinner in the ship’s galley becomes a setting where memories of loss mingle with the salty air. The narrative sways between the aristocracy’s polished veneer and the fragile humanity that quietly endures beneath it.