I usually call the Kaibas' butler, called Hobson in the dub, "Daimon." I picked this up from Season Zero, but it presents a problem. In Duel Monsters canon, which is my primary playground, a member of the Big Five is also named Daimon. So, for the purposes of this story, to avoid confusion, I have given the butler a new name.

Giichi Muraoka.

.

Seto was no stranger to a beating. He'd gotten into so many fights with the other children back at the orphanage—primarily to protect Mokuba, or to take back his stolen toys, few that they were—that a raised fist barely fazed him anymore. So it was that, when the steward of the Kaiba Estate, Giichi Muraoka, took to his back with a switch, Seto bit his lower lip and refused to cry out.

He would not fail here.

He would not give in to despair.

He'd earned this place, and it didn't matter what it cost him to keep it.

Giichi came up around Seto and stared at him through his thin little Windsor glasses. "You are not a natural inhabitant of this space!" he hissed through his teeth. "You are nothing! Gutter trash! Unwanted, unremarkable, useless! The only reason you are here is Master Kaiba's charity, and you will grovel at the opportunities presented to you here! It is never your place to complain!"

Seto's eyes flared. "I didn't complain, Muraoka-sama," he said flatly. "I corrected you."

He watched Giichi raise up his arm, still with his weapon in hand.

The door opened, and it took longer than it normally would have for Seto to realize who was stepping in on his studies. It was the mistress of the manor, dressed as she always was in sharp angles and dark colors. Amaya Kaiba never struck Seto as a lady.

Amaya Kaiba was a queen. Amaya Kaiba was a conqueror.

Seto watched in numb shock as his new mother snatched out her right arm and gripped Giichi's hand, along with his switch, and twisted. Giichi yelped, more in surprise than pain, but then crumpled into a heap as Amaya curled her free hand into a fist and sent him sailing across the room.

She was lean, graceful, but she was solid.

The cold fury on Amaya's face made Giichi's anger look like a toddler's tantrum.

"What," she whispered, "could have possibly possessed you to believe that you were ever to strike my children . . . ?"

"Mistress . . . I—"

"Stand up!" Amaya growled. Her voice didn't rise in volume, but that didn't stop the flames in her eyes from scorching the man in her sights. "You think yourself in a position to make demands of a boy? You would punish him? Stand! Show me what breed of man you are." Giichi gathered himself, adjusted his coat, and stood before his employer. "I will not begin to waste my time by guessing where you ever heard from anyone in this house that you had leave to put hands on my sons. Even if you did, do you truly believe yourself worthy? You dare invoke charity?! Look at me!"

Giichi, who had been glaring sideways at Seto—no doubt blaming him for this embarrassment—shook like a leaf in a thunderstorm. He, eventually, dared to do as instructed. Seto knew less about Amaya Kaiba than he did her husband. She was rarely interviewed, and she rarely addressed the public. She was often content to stand beside Gozaburo and influence his empire from the inside.

Seto watched her tower over this man, full of exquisite rage, and he had to resist the urge to fall to the floor in worship.

"Forgive me, Mistress," Giichi murmured. Seto didn't think he sounded all that sincere, but he decided it was best not to say anything. "I have clearly made a grievous lapse in judgment. It will not happen again."

"No," said Amaya. "It will not."

.

Gozaburo sat behind a huge oak desk, reclining in a huge leather chair like a king on his throne. "Walk me through your process, Giichi," he said, tapping the end of a cigar against one palm. "What were our instructions to you?"

Amaya stood at the other end of the room, at the door, blocking the steward's escape. She had her hands on Seto's shoulders, and he couldn't help but feel like some of her power was bleeding into him. He felt himself stand straighter.

Noa was in his room, and Mokuba was down for a nap. Seto found himself glad that his brothers weren't here to witness this; not out of fear, or embarrassment, but selfishness. He found himself quite proud to be the sole beneficiary of Amaya's anger today.

"You instructed me to teach the boy," Giichi said, eventually.

"The boy has a name," Amaya said, in a voice like rasping steel.

". . . You instructed me to teach Seto-sama."

"Correct," Gozaburo said. He leaned forward. "Specifically, we instructed you to teach Seto as you've taught Noa. That was your job. That was the work assigned to you." He paused. "Am I to understand that you take a switch to Noa if he speaks out of turn?"

"Master Kai—"

"Yes . . . or no." Gozaburo's voice echoed.

Giichi lowered his eyes. "No, Master Kaiba. Of course not."

Amaya moved a hand to Seto's head and stroked back his hair, much like she did for Noa when speaking to him. Seto realized that this was a gesture of comfort; he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He knew, without bothering to ask, that he should treat this meeting with all the seriousness it deserved.

Acting smug would do him no favors.

"Of course not," Gozaburo repeated. He set down his cigar, uncut, unlit, and stood up from his chair. Giichi, quite involuntarily, took a step back. "Of course not," Gozaburo said again, as he adjusted his jacket and sidestepped his desk. "So. You admit, brazenly, to my face, that you have not followed our instructions."

Giichi realized, too late now, his mistake.

"Mister Kaiba, it was never my intent—"

"And what was your intent, Giichi?" Gozaburo was a full head taller than his wife, who was already a foot-and-a-half taller than the squat little troll of a man who served them as head of staff. "Permit me to hazard a guess: you worked it out in your mind that Seto is a spare, no more worthy of your time than a cheap imitation, and so you believed yourself at liberty to take matters fully into your jurisdiction. After all, what is the worst that could happen? It's not like he's important."

Giichi, smartly, did not respond.

"Do you know what that says to me?" Again, Giichi did not answer. "It says that, had we not stayed your hand, you would have shed Noa's blood just the same as you have Seto's. It is in your nature to do that, isn't it? To break things. To bend them to your will. To make them sink to your level. You think yourself justified. If not for us, if not for our presence in this house, if not for the fact that you fear us, you would do it. Tell me. Am I correct?"

Giichi seemed to realize that there was no right answer to this question.

Amaya, for her part, finally stepped away from Seto and approached her husband. "If he fears us," she said, "I think it is only proper for us to prove him right."

Gozaburo growled, and he nodded. "Agreed," he said.

"Seto, darling," Amaya said, "please excuse us. You are free to do as you like for the rest of the day." Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Your father and I have work to do."