Was he angry she wasn’t that person? She peeked up at him through her lashes, trying to gauge his mood, and realized his attention wasn’t on her at all. He was staring intently at the black bulk of Liefdehuis, a slight smile on his face.

“In a few years, you’ll be able to light this electrically.”

“What?”

“Imagine it, coming home on a cold, snowy night like this, every window filled with bright pure light, accessible at the push of a button.” His expression was almost dreamy, and Alva wondered whether this was how he would look at a woman he was about to make love to. “Harnessed lightning, available in every room, to be called whenever you want it.”

“It sounds almost blasphemous.”

He smiled wider. “Are you worried Zeus will descend Mount Olympus and smite us for our effrontery?”

“Something like that.”

“Wouldn’t that be a red-letter day for science,” he said.

Alva rolled her eyes, the tightness in her stomach easing. “You have a unique and frequently disturbing outlook on life.”

“Oh, come now. The discovery Zeus is not a mythical figure but does in fact exist? Think of the questions that could be answered. For example, what does it feel like to have your daughter born from your own skull?”

“Is Hera as horrible as the stories make her out to be, or is it classic scandalmongering?”

“How, exactly, do you transform heroes into celestial constellations? And does it hurt when you turn them into a series of stars spread over hundreds of light-years?”

“Where exactly does one find ambrosia? Is it suitable for dinner parties?”

“See? You have just as many questions as I do, so you must cede the point. If angering the gods resulted in their appearance on the scene, it could only be counted as a good thing.”

“Only if they didn’t kill you with a lightning bolt first.”

“Oh no,” he said, quite sincerely. “Then I would die in the name of scientific discovery. Think of the things my fellow scientists could discover from my body!”

Alva waved her hands. “I cede entirely, if only to leave this conversation as far away from me as possible.”

He chuckled, and they walked a few steps together in silence.

“Did you mean it, though? That electrical lighting will be available for houses within a few years?”

“At the rate of progress we’re currently experiencing? Yes. Within five.”

Alva looked at the huge, dark house in front of her and tried to imagine it.

“I was going to put gas lighting in.”

“It’s certainly a popular choice.”

“But you think electricity will be better.”

“It’ll be safer, for one thing. No more noxious fumes, no more explosions caused by faulty installation. It’ll be cleaner, too.”

She glanced up at him again. “But that’s not why you love it,” she said. “That’s how you justify it. You love it because it’s harnessed lightning.”