Is that a goddamned pun.
The look she shoots him says plenty: 'that was amazing AND horrible, and you should feel bad about it.'

"Can't have your fur all slimed on, can we? Maker forbid." Oh, the sarcasm. Not that she's even entirely certain he HAS fur, but just going to be super insensitive and assume he does like a regular cat. "Find a cellar for Ser Rots-a-lot here to spend the night, and I'll do the lifting to get it there. Deal?"

Shouldn't be too much trouble to drag a floppy noodle corpse as far as a set of stairs then give it the ol' heave-ho. After that, it'll just be a matter of shoving a few heavy things in front of the door as a safety measure, and washing her hands thoroughly.
A hot bath wouldn't go amiss. And maybe a hearty stew for dinner before bed. Man, she's starving.