"My lord..." he says as diffidently as he dares. If he's obsequious enough, flatters Tizoc-tzin's vanity enough, he can get away with criticizing him when he really has to--such as when the Revered Speaker of Tenochtitlan, in his infinite wisdom, proposes a certain renovation to the Great Temple that would leave Coyolxauhqui's prison exposed to moonlight even for a moment, giving her a chance to break out and destroy them all. "Might I suggest postponing the start of construction for a week or so? The supplies you requested..."

"Ah, yes!" Tizoc's eyes light up. "You've reminded me. Tell me, have the goldworkers received their orders? I want the top of Huitzilopochtli's shrine to shine like the sun, so that He will know I hold Him in the highest esteem."

Quenami takes a slow breath. Yes, he'd been the one to help Tizoc onto the throne. Yes, he'd been the one to bring him back to life. But after all...this, he's starting to have second thoughts. Maybe having young Teomitl as Emperor wouldn't be so bad after all.