"Annanu, what do you plan to do?"
At the dining table, Gilgamesh sat at the head, looking at the blond beauty (?) on his left.
"I'll proceed as planned. Whether there are many people or few, I train the same way anyway." Annanu spoke while eating, utterly unconcerned. "Besides, I already told them—they don't have the option of backing out. They agreed to it."
The corner of Gilgamesh's mouth twitched.
He looked toward Enkidu, his gaze asking a question.
Enkidu tilted his head with a smile, indicating that there was nothing he could do either.
Gilgamesh was somewhat helpless and could only offer a reminder. "My advice is that you should hold back a little. Humans are different from you, and different from me. Don't use methods that are too intense."
"I understand. I know what I'm doing." Annanu nodded, indicating that he had it under control.
Gilgamesh said nothing more. He did not eat either, merely propping his chin up with one hand as he quietly watched Annanu and Enkidu eat beside him.
Siduri stood behind him, along with Ruslan, who was in charge of cooking—the younger brother of Siduri unexpectedly possessed great talent in the kitchen.
But food was not what he was thinking about now. He was the King of Uruk and had sampled nearly every delicacy under the heavens. Food could not hold his attention. His focus remained on the pair of brothers dining with him.
Other than gods, this was the first time anyone had eaten with him.
Even when he was young, his father, Lugalbanda, had never eaten with him. Perhaps because having a goddess for a wife consumed all his energy, he had died when Gilgamesh was still very young.
How should he put this feeling?
From the perspective of eating alone, there