A point of order here.
In regard to the history of YGO, a couple of things should be noted. Firstly, the character known as Seth or Priest Seto in canon, in my stories is called Seti I (as in, Seti the First). Secondly, Seti I and Kisara were King and Queen of Egypt in their time, and reigned for quite a long period after Atem's sacrifice.
So if I make reference to Kisara being a queen, understand that I'm not being metaphorical. In my mind, she was literally Queen of Egypt. Why would I diverge from canon like that? Because it felt right to do so.
That's pretty much it.
.
The thing that drew Seto and Kisara together, aside from their shared—spiritual—history, was wrought of emotion. It was the way they felt about things. Not about each other, but about everything. They both wore their hearts proudly on their sleeves, and they both treated the rest of the world like it did, too. Kisara was less theatrical about it, this much was obvious, but she was no less intense. It was easy to assume that Kisara was a calm and measured woman; especially when she was standing at attention next to Seto. But anyone who spent longer than a day or two with her quickly came to understand:
Kisara was as calm as a hurricane.
"I can tell," Mokuba said once, "that you want to rip peoples' faces off when they talk bad about Niisama." He eyed her appraisingly, sensing a kindred spirit. "What stops you?"
Kisara grunted; she sounded like a predator. "It is beneath me, and my prince, to rise to such bait." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I only give men like that what they don't expect. Many are seeking a fight. They wish for him, or me, or you, to lash out. They wish to paint that lashing as an indictment upon him. I will not satisfy them. The men who do not believe I would ever touch them, or that I am a coward, or that I have no fangs? Those men, I will rip in twain."
"Men," Mokuba repeated solemnly. "It is mostly guys, isn't it?"
"They are threatened," said Kisara. "They believe that my status as your brother's bodyguard makes some reflection or commentary upon their masculinity. They look at each other and say: I would never allow a woman to guard me. This is important for them, you see, and they seek to goad your brother into reacting to their nonsense so that they can feel superior to him. He does not react. They claim that this only proves their point, but the fear remains; so long as that fear festers in them, I am content to let it."
"If the fear makes them lash out, though?"
"Then they will be cast down in thunder, and I will laugh over their headstones."
"Niisama is the same way, I think," Mokuba said. "About me."
Kisara nodded. "As well he should," she said. "He is your guardian."
". . . You knew Niisama's ancestor, right? Or, our ancestor, I guess. Seti I?"
Kisara's eyes turned far away. "My king," she murmured.
"Was he like that, too? Is that why you decided to seek Niisama out?"
Kisara frowned. "Not in so many words," she said. "In many ways, yes, your brother is alike to my king. In just as many ways, however, they are ontologically opposed. I think, in all seriousness, were they to meet . . . the world would buckle beneath the weight of their hatred for each other."
"Really?" Mokuba looked enthralled.
"There are those who are alike to yourself," Kisara said, "to whom you will gravitate naturally." She gestured to herself. "Your brother and I are like that. There are also those who are alike to yourself, however, to whom you will immediately swear eternal loathing." She gestured outward. "Your brother and my king are like that."
Mokuba hummed. "How do you feel about that? I mean, that Niisama and Seti would hate each other?"
"In all honesty?" Kisara flashed her fangs in a sudden grin. "I think it is very funny."