New World, New Life: I Became A Bigshot In The Ancient World
Chapter 48: OWEN— A COINCIDENCE?

Chapter 48: OWEN— A COINCIDENCE?

"Owen?!!" Aristia whispered in shock, her eyes widening.

The boy flinched, his eyes widening in surprise. His gaze locked onto hers, confusion flashing across his features.

Adeline frowned, her eyes scanning the boy’s face with suspicion. "Miss, you know him?"

Aristia couldn’t answer. She just stood there, staring at the thin, familiar boy who looked so much like her assistant.

It was him.

But that didn’t make any sense.

The moment stretched, but reality quickly came crashing back.

Before she could process it, the boy turned sharply on his heel, preparing to run. It wasn’t the time to care about how the little stranger knew his name. All he knew was that he needed to get away.

But Aristia moved fast and instinctively reached out, grabbing his wrist before he could flee, successfully stopping him.

"Wait!" she said urgently.

The boy who looked like her assistant tensed and turned in a panic, trying to pull away. His small, dirt-streaked hands clenched and his shoulders rose in alarm.

Because of his panicky state, he mistakenly stepped on the bun which he had been clutching in his hand a few minutes earlier that now lay on the ground, smashed beyond salvaging.

"Miss, look over there! We have to leave," Adeline suddenly said with a severity that stunned Aristia. She reached for Aristia’s hand, ready to lead her away.

By now, the crowd had already dispersed.

Owen froze, staring at the direction Adeline was pointing at in horror.

Aristia turned toward the direction Adeline pointed at too and spotted two burly men storming through the crowded street, their faces twisted with anger. Their heavy boots stomped against the dirt road, scattering dust as they came storming toward them.

Her brows furrowed.

Were they chasing the boy?

Their next words confirmed her suspicions.

"Stop, you little thief!" one of the men roared, his voice booming across the street.

They were clearly after the boy.

The boy yanked his arm in an attempt to break free, but Aristia tightened her grip.

"Come with me," she said quickly, already pulling him along.

There was no time to think. The boy hesitated only for a fraction of a second before deciding to follow.

The busy street was crowded, and the angry men were slowed down. The crowd made it difficult for the men to chase them properly. People were too busy shopping and chatting, unknowingly blocking the men’s path. This gave Aristia the time she needed to escape with Adeline and the boy.

"Hey, get back here, boy!" the second man yelled, seeing that the boy was getting away.

Seeing that the crowd could separate them, Adeline, who had been running behind them, suddenly moved swiftly, surprising Aristia with her speed. She swooped Aristia into her arms without breaking stride, carrying her effortlessly.

Aristia barely had time to process it before Adeline’s speed increased, weaving through the crowd with surprising agility.

[Has Adeline always been this fast and agile?] Aristia wondered, startled by how effortlessly the woman carried her, but she quickly regained her composure, pushing the thought to the back of her mind.

Meanwhile, the boy was struggling to keep up. He stumbled slightly but forced himself to run faster.

"You brat! You think you can get away?!" one of the men bellowed, pushing past a merchant carrying a crate of fruit. The merchant yelped, barely keeping his balance.

"There!" Sighting the carriage from afar, Aristia pointed as they neared it. She told Adeline, "Quick, we can hide him in the carriage!"

They reached their carriage. The Coachman, Lucas, was already waiting beside it, his brows furrowing as he saw them approach. He was surprised to see them panting with an unfamiliar boy beside them.

"Prin—Young Miss, are you alright? Is something wrong?" He asked, confused.

Aristia didn’t have the time to reply the worried Coachman. She barely spared him a glance as Adeline set her down in the carriage and waited for the boy to follow.

But the boy hesitated at the door, his gaze flicking between Aristia and the street.

"Get inside!" Aristia ordered the boy.

The boy hesitated, his instincts telling him not to trust a stranger.

"Quickly, unless you want to be caught." Aristia warned.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He scrambled inside, and Adeline followed, shutting the carriage door quickly.

Lucas immediately climbed into his seat and took his position at the front, guessing from her words what the problem was. He didn’t need more instructions to know what to do.

Aristia leaned forward and opened the small partition connecting the carriage to the driver’s seat. "Lucas, if two men come asking about a boy, lead them in the opposite direction."

Lucas nodded in understanding. "Understood, Young Miss."

Moments later, just as expected, heavy footsteps approached and stopped right outside the carriage. The two men halted to speak to the coachman.

"Hey, you! Coachman!" One of the men barked roughly. "Did you see a young boy run by here? He was with a girl in a cloak and a lady."

Lucas gave them a blank stare. He scratched his head as if in thought, before responding in a calm, uninterested tone, "Hmmm... I’m not sure, but I might have seen a boy running that way. I do not know if he is the one you are looking for." he said, lazily pointing to the left.

The men eyed him suspiciously, but his stance did not change. Their gazes shifted to the silent carriage with closed windows, but they couldn’t ask to see the inside of the carriage.

The first man cursed under his breath, deciding to believe the coachman’s words since he didn’t seem to be lying and had no reason to. "Damn rascal is fast. Come on!"

"Once I get my hands on that little thief, I’ll..." the second man growled in response before their voices faded as they ran off in the wrong direction.

Lucas waited a moment before glancing back at the carriage and calling through the partition, "They’re gone, Young Miss."

Aristia let out a slow breath. "Thank you, Lucas."

"That’s a relief," Adeline murmured. Strangely, she didn’t look shaken at all. In fact, she seemed completely composed despite the chase. Aristia noticed this and narrowed her eyes slightly.

Adeline didn’t even break a sweat. She adjusted her dress from her seat across from Aristia and muttered, "Well, that was something."

Aristia, however, didn’t question it. Instead, she turned her attention to the boy seated across from her. He was still breathing heavily from the run, his thin shoulders rising and falling rapidly.

Now that she had time to look properly, she noted his features in detail. She couldn’t deny the resemblance.

He looked slightly older than her—maybe around seven. He had striking magenta eyes that were sharp but weary, and his deep green hair was messy and tangled from neglect. His clothes were tattered, and his small frame hinted at malnutrition.

He looked very similar to her assistant, except for the hair and eyes. Her assistant had brown eyes and brown hair. This boy was just like a miniature malnourished anime version of him.

But how?

The boy shifted and stared at her warily. "Where are you taking me?" he asked because the carriage was moving, his voice low and rough from exhaustion.

Aristia didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her gaze flickered down to his slightly oily hands.

[He looks hungry. He was holding a bun before... Not to mention those men called him a thief.]

Without a word, she reached into the small animalskin bag beside her on the carriage seat and pulled out the wrapped meat skewer and a bun. Adeline had put it there when they got into the carriage.

She held them out to him.

The boy’s gaze followed her outstretched hand. His eyes flickered to the food, then back to her face as he continued to stare at her warily. He hesitated.

"Take it," Aristia said casually. Then, she slowly began to pull her hand back. "Unless you don’t want it..."

The boy hesitated, but his hunger won over his pride. Before she could fully retract her hand, he snatched the food from her grasp.

He ate quickly—too quickly. He was obviously very hungry. The meat skewer was gone in seconds. Its deliciousness, coupled with how hungry he was, made him consume the food at great speed.

Aristia watched in silence.

The boy moved to the meat bun, eating slower this time with his eyes lowered.

"Thank you," he muttered after consuming the meat bun, his voice quieter this time.

She nodded, then knocked on the partition again. "Lucas, please take us to a good restaurant to eat."

"Yes, Princess."

The boy froze.

His wide magenta eyes snapped up to Aristia, his face filled with disbelief. "P-Princess?"

He had guessed she was from a wealthy family, but he never could have guessed she was royalty!

He couldn’t tell that she was a princess because of the cloak covering her hair, but he knew that no one would be called ’princess’ apart from the Royal females. That is, the King’s two daughters and the Grand Duke’s wife and daughter.

But he couldn’t tell which Princess she was.

[Just because he has Owen’s face, doesn’t mean he’s Owen.] Aristia told herself.

She pulled back the hood of her cloak, revealing her gray hair. "I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced," she said. "I am Aristia Amberale, the third Princess, and the first and only daughter of the Imperial Prince and Princess, the only Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Amberale."

The Grand Duke and Duchess were called ’Imperial Prince and Princess’ as a way of differentiating them from the younger generation of Princes and Princesses.

They were called Imperial because although Amberale was called a Kingdom, it was actually an Empire, having conquered many lands and Kingdoms. That was something she learned from Viscountess Vasily.

The boy’s jaw dropped slightly.

The name clearly was not foreign to him. If anything, it seemed to make him even warier than he was before.

The third princess? But why had she helped him?

After he had recovered from his state of shock, he slowly bowed his head and finally spoke stiffly, "Greetings to your Royal Highness, the third Princess. I am Owen." He paused, hesitating before finally adding, "Owen Hale."

Aristia stiffened.

Her breath caught and a sharp chill ran through her.

Her mind went blank for a moment.

Owen... Hale?

He had the same name. The same surname.

Could such a thing be a coincidence?

Aristia’s grip on her dress tightened as she stared at the boy before her.

Who was he?

And why... did he look exactly like Owen?