Prince Particular

(Note: This fairytale is my attempt at showing support for the Neurodivergent community, and providing them with a fairytale retelling of their own. Modern terms like "Autistic" and "Autistic Spectrum" are not used here, but people familar with these conditions should be able to recognise and relate to the personality traits depicted in this story.)

Once upon a time, there was a queen named Matilda. She had a son called Edward, but everyone called him Prince Particular. He was given this name due to his very unusual habits. He would only have his meals at a certain time of the day and would get very uncomfortable when he had to do a different time. He often had a piece of paper, or a small doll in his hand, and would play with it often. Matilda couldn’t really understand this. She loved their son, but also found his habits incredibly frustrating.

Prrince Particular didn’t HATE being a royal, but going from lecture to lecture, from royal dinner to royal dinner, was incredibly overwhelming. What little leisure time the prince had was devoted to his interests, and the greatest of these was museums. Prince Particular would spend hours reading about the latest art collections and exhibitions and knew more about this topic than most of the kingdom. It was clear to everyone that Prince Particular was an intelligent and astute Prince and would make an excellent monarch. However, Matilda was frustrated by the fact he had not yet found a wife.

One day, she decided to hold another ball to try and set up Prince Particular with a potential bride. As she was getting everything ready and waiting for the guests to arrive, she invited Prince Particular to hear her latest lecture about the importance of having a wife to help him stay on his best behaviour, provide moral support, provide children, and all the other things a wife was expected to do. Prince Particular was not looking at Matilda. As usual, he was fiddling with fabric doll shaped like a Greek philosopher. He often did this when he was struggling to pay attention. Even when he was fully engaged with something, it was hard to keep his mind from wandering.

“Please pay attention.” Matilda said, as strict as ever, “This is one of the most important things you’ll ever have to do.”

“I’ve been at enough balls to know how they work.” Prince Particular replied, frustrated.

“But do you know why you’ve never found a wife?”

“Yes. A lack of confidence and a lack of luck.”

“Try harder then.” Matilda told him. “Be polite, be formal, keep your thing about museums to yourself.”

These comments reminded Prince Particular why he was never keen on royal balls. He didn’t like being the centre of attention and found it really uncomfortable to interact with other people in such a close space. However, when his mother had an idea, she would persevere with it, so Prince Particular attended the ball, as he did every time his mother suggested it. Shortly afterwards, the ball began. It was a rainy and stormy night, but it was pretty warm inside the ballroom, and the atmosphere was positive as guests drank, ate and danced. As usual, Matilda had spared no expense. Prince Particular stood in the centre of the ballroom, clearly looking out of place despite all his attempts to fit in. A princess, dressed a little too finely in the latest ballgown, walked up to him.

“Hello.” She said, displaying the usual formally flirtatious manner Prince Particular had learned to expect from Princesses at these balls.

“Good to see you” Prince Particular said, trying to be polite. “I suppose you want to dance with me, don’t you?”

The princess nodded, and the two went into a basic waltz. Prince Particular was not a very good dancer. He really enjoyed music, but his movements were too fast and too lacking in finesse, and the princess felt unable to keep up.

“What’s your kingdom like?” he asked awkwardly.

“It’s nice.” The Princess replied, even less enthusiastic.

“What do you have there?”

“Some mountains, some beaches. They’re pretty beautiful.”

“Any museums?” Prince Particular asked, “Any art galleries?”

“A couple…” the Princess said, evidently not knowing much about the topic.

Before he could stop himself, Prince Particular went into one of his signature monologues about his interest in museums. The princess replied with a polite “Sounds fascinating” every so often, but Prince Particular could tell from her tone of voice and body language that she didn’t care as much as he did. Another potential match falling through the cracks. Wonderful.

“Well this has been stimulating.” The princess said a little too quickly, “I suppose I have to go now.”

She walked away, and Prince Particular felt more frustrated than ever. He was never going to find a companion. At this moment, a guard went up to him.

“Excuse me,” the guard said, “There’s someone at the door. Should we let her in?”

“Let me see” Prince Particular replied, all too glad to find an opportunity to get away from the ball.

He went into the hall and opened the door to find an anxious young woman dripping wet from the rain.

“Hello”, she said, “My name is Clara. Please could you let me in?”

Prince Particular opened the door a little further, and Clara stepped through it, entering the castle.

In contrast to the girls at the ball, Clara barely looked like she had done anything to smarten up her appearance. Even without the rain, she looked messy and dishevelled. But she had a certain authenticity that Prince Particular had rarely seen during the balls. Her raven hair hung loose, with none of the pins or brooches used by the other women who were attending the ball that night.

Matilda arrived in the hall to see what Prince Particular was up to, looked at Clara, and gasped.

“Good heavens.” She said, “Out in a rainstorm in that tiny slip of a dress. Do you have a corset?”

“I don’t wear them.” Clara replied in a matter of fact tone, “I can’t bear the tightness of them, the feeling of constriction.”

“Let her wait here until the rain clears,” Matilda told Prince Particular, “then send her back. We can’t bring her to the ball looking like that!”

“Why can’t we invite her to the ball?” Prince Particular asked.

“She’s not on the guest list” his mother replied firmly.

“This ball is for me,” Prince Particular responded “I’m bringing her in.”

Clara walked through the hall carefully, as if entering the ball too fast would cause her to shatter.

“Thank you very much.” She said.

“It’s nothing” replied Prince Particular.

Prince Particular returned to the ball. He did a few more dances, but was even less successful in having conversations, as he noticed Clara standing hesitantly at the side of the furthest corner of the room. Unable to control his curiosity, he took advantage of a break in the dancing and went to her.

“Why aren’t you joining in?” he asked politely.

“It’s the noise.”

“It’s pretty loud, I know.”

“I can’t stand it”, Clara replied.

Prince Particular was surprised by this. He had never met anyone who had expressed this sort of vulnerability. It just wasn’t the polite thing to do.

“I’ll tell you what” he said, “You look like you could use some company. Do you want me to join you”?

“I think I do.”

Prince Particular and Clara sat down where they were. They didn’t dance – they didn’t need to. It was simply better to just sit and chat. They talked for a long time, swapping stories about their lives and their interests, the things they liked and the things they didn’t like. For the first time in ages, Prince Particular felt like he was having a proper conversation with someone who was genuinely interested in him as a person, not as a prince. Prince Particular still talked about museums – and Clara was genuinely interested in what he had to say – but he now felt like he didn’t want to go too far, as if being with Clara gave him the confidence to manage his overly talkative excesses. It was the happiest Prince Particular had ever been at a royal ball. However, their joy was interrupted by a guard asking Prince Particular to follow him. Prince Particular reluctantly let go of Clara, told her he would be back and returned to the centre of the ballroom.

“You seem to be fond of that lady, don’t you?”

Prince Particular turned around to see Matilda and started to go into panic mode again.

“What do you see in her?” Matilda asked.

“I see someone who I like.” Prince Particular said tersely.

“Why? She’s made no effort to be polite, to fit in, why do you want someone like her?”

Prince Particular forced himself to look into Matilda’s eyes.

“She simply has a different way of viewing the world.”

Matilda sighed, the way she often did when she felt frustrated with Prince Particular.

“True, but how can she help you deal with your…problems?”

Prince Particular was not impressed. “Maybe I don’t need to change myself for a woman,” he replied. Forcing himself to keep his anger under control was harder than looking at Matilda. “Maybe I need a woman who can understand my conditions. I know I have flaws, but I shouldn’t spend all my time focused on fixing them in this way. If I have someone to support me – someone who isn’t you – then maybe the solutions will start to come naturally.”

Matilda thought about this for a few moments. One advantage of being in a loud ballroom was the fact it was a lot harder to overhear her having another tense discussion with her son.

“I’m glad you’re interested in anyone at all,” she finally said, and Prince Particular felt a weight lifting off his chest. “If she makes you happy, she makes you happy. One thing though. How do you know she’s especially sensitive? A lot of girls don’t like corsets – I didn’t when I was that age. A lot of girls don’t want to be in a place with too much noise.”

“I’ve never met a girl who has been as open about it as she has.”

“Let’s see. Let’s give her a room for the night and see where we go from there.”

“We can give her the guest room – it’s the most comfortable room in the house.”

“Good idea.” Matilda said, “but there’s one thing that concerns me.”

“What’s that?” Prince Particular asked.

“If we give her the best room, how will we know she’s as sensitive as you say?”

“We should give her the best room because it’s the right thing to do.” Prince Particular said through gritted teeth.

“OK, but surely we can find a way of testing her sensitivity.”

Prince Particular considered this for a few seconds.

“As long as you keep it small.” He told Matilda. Looking around, he saw Clara nearby, and went to join her for another conversation, leaving Matilda to think of a solution.

A few minutes later, whilst Prince Particular and Clara were chatting outside the ballroom, Matilda went into the guest bedroom with her most reliable servant, Steven. Matilda went into the guest room often, but still found it impressive. It was a giant chamber with all the ornate decorations you would expect. At the centre of the room was a four-poster bed, the best in the house. The frame had taken months of detailed design work. It was covered by multiple layers of mattress, sewn by the best mattress makers in the kingdom to make them as soft and comfortable as possible. Clara would love this place.

As she contemplated her plan, Matilda was unsure whether causing further disruption and discomfort for Clara was the right thing to do, but in that moment, she had a vision of Prince Particular and Clara marrying, starting a family and ruling together. The prospect of her son finding the ideal woman was exciting enough to override her moral concerns. Matilda signalled to Steven, who reached into his pocket and took out three dried peas. He handed them to Matilda, who carefully placed them underneath the mattress. If Clara was as sensitive as Prince Particular said, she would notice them.

About an hour later, Clara arrived in the room and prepared to settle down for a long night’s sleep.

The following morning, Prince Particular and Queen Matilda sat waiting in the Banqueting Room.

“You sure about this plan?” Prince Particular asked.

“I am sure” Matilda replied. “And if the relationship doesn’t work out, you can always get divorced. A short relationship is better than none at all.”

As soon as she said this, Clara arrived, accompanied by Steven. Prince Particular noticed the bags under her eyes.

“So, how was last night” Prince Particular asked innocently.

“It was awful” Clara replied, “I didn’t get any sleep at all.”

“That bad?”

“Yes” said Clara bluntly. “I don’t know why, but the bed felt really uncomfortable, and I was just tossing and turning all night.”

“You’re that sensitive?”

“Yes, I am.” Clara replied, “You’re probably going to tell me that’s bad, aren’t you?”

“Not at all!” For the first time in his life, Prince Particular felt genuinely enthusiastic about spending his life with another woman. “I’m extremely sensitive too.”

“What sort of sensitivity?” Clara asked.

“It’s an emotional sort. Like my mind is always moving, like I can’t stay still. It’s like having this energy that you lose control of if things aren’t exactly perfect.”

“Funny,” Clara said, “It’s pretty similar for me.”

“The sense of needing to keep things exactly controlled?”

“Yes. But also feeling like I need movement and spontaneity. It’s a funny contradiction.” Clara commentated.

Matilda watched them talk with conflicted feelings – she was pleased that her experiment had proved Prince Particular and Clara were a good match, but also felt guilty about the disruption she had caused.

“I’m sorry Clara.” Matilda confessed, “I was the one who ruined the bed. I left some dried peas in the mattress and didn’t take them out.”

Clara looked angry for a few seconds, then cooled down. She hadn’t expected Matilda to apologize to her – people rarely did. Maybe being accepted by her meant that a single bad night was worth it. “Honestly,” she replied, “I’ve had less comfortable nights sleep.”

“How often do you have problems like that?” Matilda asked out of curiosity.

“Quite a bit. But no-one has ever put peas in my bed before.”

“It must be quite difficult with your sensitivities, isn’t it” Matilda responded sincerely.

“It is” said Clara, “but one thing makes it easier.”

Matilda knew exactly what Clara was referring to, and smiled as she turned to Prince Particular.

“Having someone to share your problems with” Clara concluded.

After the conversation, Clara and Prince Particular went to the guest room and removed the peas from under the mattress. Clara never had any trouble with the guest bed ever again.

A few months later, Prince Particular and Clara married. When they eventually ascended to the throne, the pea was placed in the royal museum, which became the pride of the kingdom under Prince Particular’s careful management. Many decades later, long after Prince Particular’s descendants had passed on, a new Royal Family took over the museum, and the peas were placed in storage. They aren’t easy to find, but if you can detect a pea inside a giant mattress, you can probably detect one anywhere. All you need is the ability to see the world in a different way.