At the hand on her shoulder, she turned her gaze back to him, a storm of emotions passing through her eyes. Helena was still decidedly refusing to break and let her emotions out. At his words, she drew in a breath, attempting to steel herself against her emotions. She climbed into the carriage and took a seat, looking down at her hands as he got in after her. He had guessed the correct cemetery, so she didn't correct him on it.

Lifting her gaze back to him, she heard his words and understood his intent with them. "How long does it take before the pain is not as sharp?" Helena understood it would be a long time before that happened, but she asked anyway. After all, she was starting to question what the point of remaining alive would be without her daughter there to share it with her. Perhaps she should have let the flames cut off their only means of escape and consumed them both. Or perhaps she should've thrown herself to the flames or shot herself before Dorian had returned.

Seeing the way he put his hand over his eyes, she could see he was distressed. "Are you well?" She asked, though immediately wondered if she shouldn't have, if it was something relating to his vampiric state that she shouldn't know about.