Kuja freezes, for a moment, and for that moment he debates, very carefully, how to proceed.
He doesn't need to know.
He's too useful to know.
He's heard my voice saying those things already, clearly he's too stupid to realize the implications. Feed him a lie and he'll keep thinking I'm merely 'eccentric'. He has an airship, and apparently he thinks highly enough of me to go out of his way to pick up something in my likeness.
And yet, unbidden, comes that niggling little presence in the back of his mind, given an all-too-familiar voice for the first time.
Why?

Kuja answers, after a moment. "It's... complicated."