Riverita

In the opening pages we meet young Miguel, a curious eight‑year‑old who is summoned into the austere study of his reverent Uncle Bernardo. Through a measured, almost theatrical dialogue, the uncle recounts the loss of Miguel’s mother—a refined lady whose brief marriage to his father ended in tragedy. The narration paints a vivid picture of late‑nineteenth‑century Madrid society, from the solemn funeral procession that drew the royal court to the rigid customs that govern grief and reputation.

The story unfolds as a subtle portrait of a family bound by duty, propriety and the weight of memory. As Miguel listens, the reader is drawn into the quiet drama of a household steeped in tradition, where every gesture—from the placement of a vase to the timing of a carriage—reveals deeper layers of honor and restraint. The novel promises a careful exploration of how personal loss intertwines with social expectation, all seen through the eyes of a child learning what it means to belong.