The cloaked schemer understands illusions better than anyone. It is his talent, after all. Illusion... a thing wrongly perceived or interpreted by the senses, a deceptive appearance or impression, a false idea or belief… but somehow he still manages to lie to himself as he stares at the illusion he creates of Naminé.
She's perfect and beautiful. Her hands laced behind her back, she says nothing; she doesn't have to. Somehow her presence calms him like no other and if the real Naminé isn't interested in him, he doesn't need her. He has his illusions and that's enough for now.