So she cleaned the palace. Not just physically, which she was very, very good at, but spiritually. Prayer was her real work. The dusting and polishing and mopping and shining were all secondary. The King passed by and her heart sang blessings for wisdom and to not do. Not that, she'd say deep within, and the King would turn. Some days he was like a spinning top. His decisions whirrled around and came to an unexpected end.
His friends and enemies who gathered in the grand room to pay homage had slipped in through her prayers. The maid in the hallway was the most powerful person in all the world.