Very few people understood her. They looked out of their castles, over their moats, watching always for dragons and other creatures that might take advantage of their carefully guarded goodwill. The girl fed dragons. She got a little singed sometimes - and sometimes she got actually burned. But the dragons were hungry (they ate lemon cake and old poetry) and helping them was a thing she could do. It didn't necessarily make her happy; it was occassionally dirty, achy work. But it did make her happy to see the dragons contented. And she got to hear wild stories, sad stories, beautiful moon-drenched stories, of flying beyond the world.
I would like to tell you the girl married a prince. Maybe she did, maybe not. There are plenty of girls who miss out. But regardless, she was a princess. I know you've read the old stories (or seen the films). A princess is a girl who does good.
I would also like to tell you that the girl is me. Truth is, though, I'm not particularly good. If I saw a dragon I'd probably run screaming. But I can tell when blog readers prefer posts with pictures (stats are good for some things) and that's easy enough to give.