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Description

Firefly was an enigma to most Equestrians. The Princess was never one to make formal announcements on anything going on in her life, nor she tell the press anything unless explicitly asked. She just lived on her own terms, leaving tabloid reporters to wonder what exactly was going on in her life.
 
Lately, her swelling belly had become a hot topic among Canterlot gossips. She hadn’t openly acknowledged it, but many assumed she was pregnant. But they just had to find out for sure and the only way to do so was to ask her.
 
“Princess!” A reporter and some cameraponies stopped her in the street. “Word has been buzzing throughout Canterlot with rumors of a possible pregnancy, or perhaps a diet plan gone haywire. Can you confirm or deny any of these theories?”
 
While Firefly wasn’t one to seek out press interviews, she wasn’t shy to answering questions either, albeit in a way that often created even more questions than answers.
 
“What diet plan?” She laughed. “Yeah, I’m preggers.”
 
“Our suspicions have been confirmed! How far along are you? Are you carrying a single baby, twins, triplets? Do you have any tips for Equestria on the do’s and don’ts of diet and exercise for pregnant mares?”
 
“This kid’s got five months to go. And fuck if I know,” Firefly shrugged. “I just do my own thing.”
 
“And here’s a question that’s been on everypony’s minds: Who is the father? Is it Consort Galaxy Guard, or could there be another lover involved in your life?”
 
“What the fuck kinda question is that?” The alicorn chortled at the ridiculousness of the question. “Gal would kill me if I did that. I’m actually carrying my brother’s baby!”
 
“Your brother’s baby?” The reporter was confused. “Princess, can you elaborate on that statement?”
 
“You heard me,” Firefly shot a sly wink at the cameras. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I got a bag of Twizzlers calling my name.”
 

 
Knock, knock, knock!
 
Firefly opened her door to a familiar gloomy changeling stallion. Phil was looking especially pissed off as he rushed in and slammed the door before a mob of ponies came banging on the windows.
 
“Hey Phili-O! What’s up?”
 
“What did you tell the press about your pregnancy?” He snapped.
 
“I told them I was having my brother’s baby! Why?”
 
“You should have clarified that you were volunteering as a surrogate for Ambrosia! Your vague answers have sent at least 20 journalists after me asking about our ‘incestuous affair’! You must explain yourself before we get accused of even more scandal!”
 
Firefly snorted, struggling to stifle her laughter. “Oops!”

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