This is my response to Day 21 of http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/'s 30 Days of Flash Fiction, the list for which can be found at http://aldersprig.livejournal.com/221684.h
So the seeming goatherd, still with the purple bag over his shoulder, brought the terrified princess back to the palace.
He marched her past the guards.
He marched her past the knights.
He marched her past the ladies-in-waiting.
He marched her past her page and her little dog and her own dear nanny, past the chancellor and right up to the king.
“I’ve brought your stolen daughter back, Your Majesty,” he said. “Now I want my reward.”
And the princess could say nothing and do nothing because of the spell he had put on her, but the purple bag began to swing on its strap.
The king offered the seeming goatherd his own farm on the best land in the kingdom and a herd of prize goats.
“Oh no,” said the seeming goatherd, “That’s not a good enough reward for returning your daughter and saving the kingdom. I want your daughter’s hand in marriage or the curse the sorcerer put on her won’t lift and she’ll never talk again.”
“Scoundrel!” declared the king.
“Practical,” said the pretend goatherd, “What’s the use of a ruler who cannot talk? Give me your daughter’s hand in marriage and the morning after we are wed, she‘ll be able to speak again.” The purple bag swung even harder on its strap. “Shake on it?”
He offered his hand to the king, but as the king went to take it the purple bag slid down the apparent goatherd’s arm and pulled the magic ring off his finger. The sorcerer was suddenly the sorcerer again, the purple bag turned back into the goatherd and the king called for his guards and knights.
The goatherd took the farm, the princess married the chancellor and both of them avoided purple bags for the rest of their lives.