Chapter 3Markle woke as a strand of sunlight filtered in through the leaves and branches overhead, throwing a direct beam into his face. He sat up and stretched. The chilly air hurt his lungs as he took a deep breath.
The events of last night still seemed a dream. Meeting the dancer and coming up with a plan for earning some money had more fantasy than reality. However, when Markle glanced across the remains of the fire, the dancer was curled up in his blankets, the crimson cloak draped on top for extra warmth. Not a figment of Markle’s imagination, then.
The dancer stirred, likely from the same annoying rays of sunshine. He yawned loudly and rolled over, his eyes meeting Markle’s.
“Good morning,” the dancer greeted cheerfully.
“Morning,” Markle mumbled.
Frye sat up and tsked. “Now, m
