NovelUSAChapter 297 That afternoon, while everyone else alternated between drills and rest, Citrine was either being punished or on her way to another round of it.
She prided herself on her stamina, but even she couldn't withstand an entire afternoon of relentless training. While others caught their breath, she was running laps or doing push-ups as punishment.
By half past five, Citrine staggered back to the dorm, utterly spent. She didn't even have the appetite to eat; she just collapsed onto her bed.
Ingrid and the others were worried sick. They'd brought back sfood from the dining hall, but when they walked in and saw Citrine sprawled out, they couldn't bear to wake her.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIngrid quietly set the food on the desk and whispered to the others, "Let's just let Citrine rest. She's been through hell today, and we have to muster for the sing-along later. Who knows what that damn Hastings will put her through next?" The more Ingrid spoke, the more indignant she sounded.
The group tiptoed to their own bunks, put on headphones, and scrolled through their phones, careful not to disturb her.
When it was almost time, they gently woke Citrine.
After a short nap, Citrine looked much better-her color had returned and she seemed more alert.
By the tthey reached the field, the sing-along had already started.
Trying to keep Citrine out of Hastings' line of sight, Ingrid and the others found a spot as far away from him as possible, and Citrine sat wedged between them.
It didn't matter. Hastings spotted her instantly.
His brow furrowed, and he abruptly stopped the cadet who'd been leading the song.
Citrine's right eyelid twitched-a sure sign of impending doom.
Sure enough, Hastings fixed his gaze on her. "Citrine Carmichael," he called out, "your physical training scores are the highest in the group. I'm sure your singing is just as impressive. Why don't you lead us in a battle anthem?" "I'd rather not. My throat's sore," Citrine protested, scowling. She was convinced Hastings had somehow discovered her Achilles' heel.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe truth was, there was nothing in this world that scared her-except singing. She was tone-deaf. The last tshe'd gone with her classmates to Siren's Whisper, she'd cranked the original track to full voland barely mouthed the words, hoping no one would notice.
But Hastings wasn't about to let her off the hook. "Citrine, following orders is the foundation of discipline," he reminded her, eyes unyielding.
Upperclassmen who didn't have classes that evening had gathered at the training grounds, eager to watch the freshmen's military drills. If Citrine refused, she knew by tomorrow morning, the whole campus would be gossiping online-accusing her of defying a superior's orders and disrespecting her instructor.
"Fine, I'll sing," Citrine muttered, bracing herself.
She took a breath and began: "Hear the trumpet sound, a new journey calls, our mission—" She barely got the first line out before laughter erupted from the crowd.
"Oh my God, is she tone-deaf?" "I can't-my sides hurt. I don't want to laugh, but I can't help it!" "How can someone that gorgeous be so hopeless at singing?" "Honestly, I looked at her and thought she'd be amazing. This is... something else." "So even beautiful girls have their weaknesses, huh?"
Meanwhile, Hastings-usually the picture of stern authority-was m struggling to keep a straight face. He clutched his stomach and stared at Citrine as though witnessing the funniest thing he'd ever seen.
"Carry on, Citrine. You're doing great," Hastings managed between fits of suppressed laughter, his shoulders shaking.
The laughter grew louder and louder, drawing even more upperclassmen over to see what the commotion was about.
Visit our social media platform to read fascinating stories every day and connect with the community!
