There were many things Yennefer didn't voice explicitly. In the intimate moments they shared in their six years of running into each other over and over again, Geralt had learned a lot about her and she could tell by his annoyingly knowing tone, if not his words. She did her best not to look overly annoyed by it.
"She clearly has no idea what I'm thinking and neither do you." The tone was terse, but she meant it. She'd allowed Ciri many liberties she would not give to just anyone. Allowing her to go into her personal spaces without her? That was a big step. She'd even locked Geralt and Jaskier out if she were not present, and she trusted the former with her life. She'd been much more lenient about things than she would have been. She chided her about things that didn't matter.
She had no need to call her lazy. She could have just left her to wake in the room alone instead of sitting and talking with her the first day as she did. She didn't even have to agree to train her. She'd already told her how she'd wished to be a mother.
While it wasn't explicit, she felt the message was clear that she would need time.